


Permanence

by redezzed



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Amnesia, Bottom Dean, Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge 2014, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Romance, non descrptive panic attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-22
Updated: 2014-10-22
Packaged: 2018-02-22 05:01:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 40,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2495378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redezzed/pseuds/redezzed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester doesn’t date people, and he certainly doesn’t date average, normal, tax-accountant types like Jimmy Novak.<br/>But Castiel isn’t like that. Then again Castiel isn’t like anyone Dean has ever met. Castiel has extreme posttraumatic retrograde amnesia, he doesn’t even remember his own name.<br/>Dean remembers Before, but he’s trying not to.<br/>Because Cas isn’t anything like James Novak, and some things are more important than who you used to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Break Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for [Dean/Cas Big Bang 2014](http://deancasbigbang.livejournal.com/).  
> Amazing art by [spnblargh](http://spnblargh.livejournal.com/), so great to work with them.  
> [Art Masterpost](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2473271)  
> Beta’d by [goshcas](http://kierenn.co.vu/), who is fantastic and deserves all the cookies.  
> This is the fluffiest thing I have ever written.

 

It took two hours for Dean to figure that this was not going to work out.

The conversation was pleasant but not overly so, the interactions were nice but not anything special. Not worth the time and effort of actually being in a relationship.

But then _why_ had they gone on four dates.

Simply put, James Novak was incredibly attractive. They had been drawn to each other the second their eyes met (in a coffee shop, how cliche is that?), but after trading numbers and going out it had become sort of…

When Dean first saw Jimmy it had been like a magnet pulled them together. He was simply gorgeous, dark hair and bright blue eyes with a trim frame and just all around nice ass. Talking was a bit rough on their first date (simple, went out for dinner) but not terrible. After their second date (trip to the Roadhouse, Dean was feeling unoriginal) they fell into bed a bit tipsy and handsy and Dean had been excited to finally get his hands on this beautiful body. But the sex was sort of…

One night stands Dean had no moral qualms about ditching, but they had been on two dates. Jimmy was a nice guy, a bit awkward but kind. They had a third date to a park and had sat awkwardly together and Dean had caught the wistful look on Jimmy’s face as he looked at the happy families. So maybe James Novak was just a shade away from straight. At that point, Dean knew it was never going to last.

So _why_ had they gone on another date.

Two dates is fine, three is pushing it, but four is definitely the dreaded “boyfriend” area. Dean Winchester did not date. So after a normal average boring date to a movie and an extremely awkward moment of does-he-want-me-to-hold-his-hand-oh-no-we-are-so-not-doing-that, Dean did what he normally did when he was faced with emotional situations: called Sam.

“You have to break up with him.”

Dean groaned, “I know Sam, but breaking up with him implies that we were actually dating. Which we’re not.”

“You went on four dates, you are totally dating.”

  “No, we’re not.”

  Sam gave an exasperated exhale, “So what are you going to do? Ignore him, stop answering texts and phone calls and just hope you never run into him again?”

  There was a stony silence.

  “No Dean, go break up with him. Call him up, ask to meet somewhere simple and public and just tell him that you’re not that into him. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Dean sighed.

 

  Dean called Jimmy and it was an awkward three minutes before they agreed to meet up at the coffee shop where they had first met. Dean thought it was fitting. Poetic, even. Some sort of ends-where-it-began metaphor bullshit that sold thousands of chick-flicks every year.

  His hands where only shaking a little bit when he parked and turned off the Impala. This was stupid. He shouldn’t be nervous about breaking up with someone he wasn’t even really dating but… the last time he had broken up with someone had been Cassie. After that… It’s not like he had interpersonal issues. Bobby, Ellen, Jo, Ash, they all meant the world to him. And Sam? Dean would go to the ends of the earth and further for his little brother. He loved his family, his friends. But… relationships just weren’t his thing. Jo said he had a catch and release problem. Dean flirted with people like it was going out of style. It was fun. Everyone has something interesting about them, but after he figured it out, after they had talked and kissed and fucked, he… didn’t know what to do with them anymore. Maybe that’s why Jimmy had stuck around so long. Dean hadn’t figured out what the interesting thing was.

Dean swore softly and took a deep breath. He could do this. No problem. It’s not like they had anything special going on, sleeping together wasn’t even that good. Dean could go out the night and have some rebound sex with some pity-eyed chick who would fall hook-line-and-sinker for a “just broke up with my boyfriend” story. Confidence flaring back to life, Dean got out of the car and started down the street towards the cafe.

  People bustled back and forth hurriedly, the downtown area was always crowded but today it seemed packed. The cafe was filled with people getting their two pm caffeine fix, so Dean decided it would be better to just meet Jimmy outside the cafe. Faster that way, just say it and be done. Right. That simple. Dean stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets and craned his neck, looking for a mop of black hair somewhere in the crowd.

Jimmy was late.

  Finally Dean spotted him, walking on the opposite side of the street towards the cafe. He was wearing his customary casual suit, everything in place and his hair styled simply. That was another mystery, Jimmy refused to talk about his work, but it must be pretty official if he had to be dressed up everyday. Dean almost laughed at how ridiculous it was that they had even half-dated. Dean Winchester was a mechanic who couldn’t even handle a steady relationship. James Novak wore suits to work, lived in a fancy brick apartment, and probably had things like 401(k)’s and 10 year plans. James Novak deserved a loving wife, a cute family, not a high school drop out. _This is a good decision,_ Dean reminded himself, _neither of you are going to be happy if this continues._

  Jimmy looked along the street, brow furrowing in confusion. Dean’s lips twitched up at the corner. Adorable.

  “Hey, Jimmy!” Dean held a hand to the side of his face. Jimmy looked up and gave him an easy smile, before stepping towards him.

 

  His feet were moving before he thought to run.

  Dean felt it, the sinking feeling in his gut, stark fear.

And something akin to fate, destiny.

He knew, he knew, before it happened.

Because Dean had heard the rumble of an engine before he saw the grey blur hurtling up the road.

He saw the line of trajectory.

“Look out!” Dean screamed, reaching for Jimmy, still two lanes away.                                 

Time felt elongated, the seconds before stretched. They felt like hours, but however long they seemed it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t run fast enough.

It was too late, and he watched in abject horror as the car tried to swerve but not _fast enough_. The breath was punched out of him as he saw the impact of grey steel and soft, breakable human. His eyes closed instinctively but it wasn’t enough to stop him from hearing the hollow breaking sounds of ribs or the sickening sharp _crack_ of James Novak’s head hitting the pavement—

Time stopped.

Then blurred.

 

His knees where hitting the ground.

His mouth was moving words he didn’t remember thinking.

_Call nine-one-one. Now._

Dean could see his hands ghosting over Jimmy’s wrist, holding down and catching the soft thump-thump of a barely-there pulse.

He held his hands over his mouth but couldn’t feel any breath.

The first aid Bobby had taught him after Sammy had fallen out of their treehouse twisted around his mind, cold and practical.

_Don’t move him, potentially spinal damage._

_Probable broken ribs._

_Collapsed lung._

_Head wound._

 

_Head wound._

Dean’s hands were shaking again as he heard the sirens. Ragged breaths echoed in his ears and he thought they were probably his own. He felt sick.

_Head wound._

There was blood. Everywhere. It was soaking into the knees of his jeans and staining the palm of one of his hands. It was running like water into the gutter.

The EMT’s were shoving at his shoulders and pushing him back. Dean blinked slowly, trying to focus his head. People were yelling, screaming. The driver of the car was sobbing. The EMT’s were issuing orders, a neck brace, bandages, putting Jimmy on a stretcher. Dean sat on the warm cement and stared emptily.

In shock.

His hands twitched at his side, adrenaline coursing through his body. He needed to do something, help somehow—

A hand landed on his shoulder.

“Hey, do you know him?” An EMT.

Dean nodded. “He’s… he’s my boyfriend.”

“Come to the hospital with us, he shouldn’t be alone if something happens.”

Dean was hauled to his feet and gently pushed into the back of the ambulance. He watched as the EMT’s fussed over the body. Jimmy’s body. Laying way too still.

Time blurred.

Until they stopped and hot air rushing in the back as the doors opened and Dean was left trailing after the gurney as it sped away into the depths of the hospital. His breath was coming out too fast, on the edge of hysteric. His arm reached out and grabbed onto the jacket of the EMT.

“Is he going to be okay?” The words were weak.

“Honestly?” The EMT looked at him sadly, “Probably not. If he lives through the next...six hours, he’ll live. But the brain is a complicated thing, until he wakes up nothing definite can be said. I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

Dean walked to the desk, filed his information under Jimmy’s name. The nurse with a nice smile said the hospital would call him if anything happened. Dean sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair for a long time.

 

James Novak’s heart is still beating six hours later.

Dean goes home.

 

The hospital calls him when something happens, six weeks later.

James Novak’s eyes open.

 

‖

 

It was like…

                        floating.

                                    or maybe flying.

He didn’t really know.

 

He had been flying.                                         On a plane.

            But. He didn’t know when.

 

Everything kept fading to black.

Like a low budget movie.

With bad transitions.

It hurt a lot.      A lot.    A lot.

It hurt more before it went black.

But when it was black he couldn’t _think_.                                             And thinking was important

(he thought).

 

He thought about pictures. People. A bit about freckles, but he couldn’t see more.

  It was too dark.

He thought about swings.

A girl.

She either had blond or red hair, he couldn’t remember.

                                                (sometimes it seemed like it was both)

 

A child, racing through a hallway laughing, he remembered running after him, yelling his name.

  His name.

                        (His head hurt, it hurt to think)

         _Gabriel?_

Everything kept being black.

 

He tried after that, tried to think, tried to remember.

He remembered remembering, but it just hurt too much and

everything was getting darker and darker until there was

                                               

_nothing_

 

He was empty. Hollow. Void. Stuck in the darkness.

  Until he wasn’t.

            Until he opened his eyes and everything was **bright**.

But still. He had

_nothing_

 

‖

 

 

“My name’s Dr. Thanatos, I’ve been overseeing Mr. Novak.” A lady with a bob of dark hair said, smiling faintly at Dean. She held a clipboard which she had just used to stop Dean from opening the door to Jimmy’s room.

“What’s up with him? How is he?” Dean asked.

She bit her lip. “I’m not a medical doctor. I’m a psychiatrist. Dr. Adler thought it would be a good idea for me to be assigned to the case.”

“Why would Jimmy need a psychiatrist? He got hit by a car.”

“I heard you were first on the scene, and that you were involved with Mr. Novak. How are you holding up?” Dr. Thanatos asked.

“Nice deflection.” Dean pushed forward to open the door. Instantly she flicked out her clipboard and smack him on the shoulder.

“Dean Winchester, this situation is more serious than you can imagine.” Dr. Thanatos glared.

“What? Tell me what’s going on.” Dean stepped back.

She sighed and thumbed through her notes. “In the accident, Mr. Novak ended up with several fractured ribs, a punctured lung from a bone fragment, and severe head trauma. The side of his skull was caved in. He had bleeding in his brain. A couple hours after the surgery, he almost flatlined because of the pressure in his skull. Luckily, they were able to relieve the pressure with an ICP, or a intra-cranial pressure monitor, without major tissue loss. The doctors didn’t know if he would ever wake up, and if he did, in what… state he’d be in.”

“What are you talking about?” Dean’s pulse was starting to go up.

Dr. Thanatos flipped to another page, “Mr. Novak sustained significant damage to the right hemisphere of his brain, as well as his temporal lobe. His hippocampus and amygdala seem to be functioning near-normal. His thalamus and hypothalamus were also damaged, as well as a chunk of his cerebral cortex. That’s one of the ones we’re really worried about.”

“Hold up, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Dean felt exasperated, the science talk going way over his head, “What is wrong with Jimmy?” She took a deep breath.

“James Novak has an extreme case of posttraumatic retrograde amnesia.”

“Amnesia? You mean he lost some of his memories?”

“All of them. All of his memories.”

“He doesn’t remember anything?” The room felt a bit spinny.

“When he woke up,” Dr. Thanatos glanced at the door to the room, “he didn’t even remember his own name.”

 

‖

 

  James Novak.

  It could be anyone. A nurse. A doctor. A stranger. They could have made a mistake, accidentally switched the little name cards on the doors.

  James Novak.

  It felt like a good name, a strong name, a kind name.

  But not his name.

  It was though, he did not have any delusions otherwise. The face on the driver's license matched the one he saw in mirror, even though the name was completely foreign.

  He was getting used to completely foreign things.

  The door opened and a man walked in. He was wearing a lot of clothes, many layers and a green jacket. More importantly, the man was not wearing the loose blue or green or pink clothes all the hospital staff were wearing.

  He sat up straighter in bed, setting the wallet down on the little rolling table in front of him.

  “Hi,” the stranger said. “I’m Dean Winchester.”

  Nothing. Not a blip. No matter how warm the smile was, he could not place it.

  “Hello, Dean. I do apologize, I have no idea who you are.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

 

 

  Talking to Jimmy was weird. Really weird. Invasion of the Body Snatchers, pod person weird. It was something about his face. All the bruises were healed, but the right side of his head was still shaved close to his scalp. Dean kept his eyes away from the twisting lines of scars, he was already feeling nauseous. It wasn’t the injury, it was the look on his face.

  It’s like the muscles held themselves differently.

  That, coupled with the hesitant formal language, Jimmy didn’t really look like Jimmy anymore. Maybe Dean should perform an exorcism.

  “Should I know you?” Jimmy asked, folding his hands in his lap.

  Dean hesitated, “I’m the one who helped you, I got to you first after you got hit.” Not technically a lie.

  The tension in Jimmy’s forehead cleared. He smiled lightly, “Thank you, I suppose.”

  “Nah, anyone would have done the same. I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

  “I am not, if someone has not told you already,” Jimmy looked down at his hands, “I am not alright.”

  “I know,” Dean said softly.

  “How did you know?” Jimmy looked up, a flash of determination in his eye Dean had never seen before, Jimmy was a pretty laid-back guy. “How did you know I was awake?”

  “The hospital called me. The emergency contact on your insurance is a disconnected number.” The heart monitor started to speed up. Jimmy grimace at it and held a shaky hand to his head.

  “You will have to excuse me, all of this is feeling a bit surreal.” Jimmy’s voice shook.

  “I’m so sorry this happened to you, Jimmy.”

  The heart monitor spiked and Jimmy winced. The door opened quickly to reveal Dr. Thanatos gripping her clipboard and glaring at Dean.

  “I think that’s enough visiting for one day,” she said crisply.

  “Goodbye, Dean.” Jimmy said softly, head still buried in his hands.

  “Later.” Dean was forcibly pushed out the door.

  “He’s going to be discharged soon,” Dr. Thanatos said after the door had closed, “We had thought some of his family would come looking for him after the emergency contact was a bust. But that didn’t happen. Do you know who else I should call?”

  “I don’t know,” Dean said, shaken by the whole situation, “Jimmy didn’t really talk about his family. I don’t even know where he worked or where he lived.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Look,” Dean said with a glare, “we went on four dates, nothing special, I was going to break up with him but…”

  Dr. Thanatos set a hand on his shoulder. “Let me go talk to him.” She slipped back into the room.

  Dean took a deep breath but the walls wouldn’t stop moving. He paced a bit, but that just made him dizzy. He sunk to the ground, back against the wall, and pulled out his phone.

  “Hey, Sammy.” Dean’s voice sounded weird even to his own ears.

  “Dean? What’s wrong, what happened?”

  “Jimmy woke up.”

  A moment of silence on the other end, “How is he?”

  “Jesus, Sammy, he doesn’t remember anything. He never told me anything, I don’t know if he has siblings or his parents names or even where he works.” Dean’s breath was hitching in his throat, coming out choked and panicked.

  “Calm down Dean, it’s going to be okay.”

  “No, no it’s not, he has fucking brain damage and it’s all my fault.”

  “It’s not your fault Dean, it was the drivers fault. He was going too fast and he wasn’t watching. It’s not your fault, it’s not your fault.”

  Dean let the words wash over him, not really sinking in. Guilt and nausea stirred his stomach and it felt like he couldn’t breath right anymore. Dr. Thanatos stepped out of the room.

  “Got to go Sammy, doctors back.”

  “Call me, Dean!” Sam added right before Dean hung up on him. Dean scrambled to his feet.

  “How is he?”

  “James is technically fine.” The doctor said, “Physically healing quite well. He will need some physical checkups, but he will recover. Besides that, he should meet with me two times a week. This degree of memory loss is not anywhere near normal, it’s wholly possible a lot of it is psychosomatic.”

  Dean gave her a blank look.

  “He might be unconsciously repressing his memories.”

  “So he could get them back?” Dean tried not to sound quite so hopeful.

  “Slowly, over time. Or faster, if he sees something familiar. Important people, places, things, in his memory have the potential to trigger the retrieval of his memories. The triggers could also be harmful. Powerful emotions create vivid memories, so he could have negative triggers that could cause breakdowns or panic attacks.”

  Dean tried not to think about the previous moment in the hallway. “So like, good and bad acid trips?”

  Dr. Thanatos let out a little laugh. “Yes, but a bit more complicated. And destructive. Additionally, he could have an aneurysm if something went wrong in the healing process. Any more head trauma would be very damaging—”

  “Whoa, wait a second, you mean he could keel over at any second?”

  “Which is why he needs to be monitored, there needs to be someone keeping an eye on him. Mr. Novak is awake, and while not in the best condition, there is nothing more that the hospital can do. He’s going to be discharged tomorrow and he needs a soft place to land.” Dean could see where she was going with this.

  “His emergency contact number didn’t work, right? Can’t you just look whoever it was up on the internet or something?”

  Dr. Thanatos gave him a sad look, “While the disconnected phone is true, I haven’t really told Mr. Novak the whole truth. I know exactly where his contact is. This is all a huge shock to him, it seemed cruel to add to the problem. Gabriel Novak, James’s older brother, is at Casero Cemetery along with both of James’s parents and his older sister Anna. Gabriel died under mysterious circumstances and the FBI are currently not releasing any information. We are trying to track down next of kin, but there is too much red tape in the way.”

  Dean felt cold. No wonder Jimmy didn’t want to talk about his family, they were dead. Maybe even murdered. Dean couldn’t blame him, personally he found it satisfying to ramble about his brother but say one thing about his mom or dad and he clammed up. The decision made itself before Dean could really think it through.

  “He can stay with me until you find someone.”

  Dr. Thanatos smiled, “He will be released tomorrow at three. I’ll prepare all of the medication he will need as well as information on his injuries and how to take care of him.”

“I’ll be here.” Dean said. She nodded and started to turn away.

“Dr. Thanatos?” Dean added as an afterthought. “He is going to be okay, eventually?”

“I think he will be,” she smiled softly and continued down the hall, but not before turning back for a second, “and call me Tessa.”

 

  ‖

 

  It was loud-quiet in the hospital. He did not really have any other way to describe it. It was loud with machines and people and problems and the various ways of dying, but it was also so quiet. It was like the air was dampening noise, too caught up in pain and sadness.

  He decided he didn’t like hospitals.

  Which was fine, because he was being released that afternoon. To Dean Winchester. Tessa had explained that they were doing all they could to track down his family but that these things take time and to be patient. He did not know who ‘they’ were, but he would appreciate if they found who he was a little faster. He did not want to impose on a random stranger like that, be brought into his home and become a burden.

  Still, it was worth it to get out of the hospital.

  It did not smell right.

  At 2:45 he was handed a white shirt and a loose pair of light blue pants and he changed in the bathroom before he was escorted down to the entrance by his nice nurse. It was loud-loud now, even though the radiation of sadness still permeated the space. Shortly, a large black car pulled up, and Dean Winchester stepped out.

  He rose out of his uncomfortable plastic seat and the nurse stood with him. Dean walked in and smiled when he saw him. He tried to smile back.

  “Ready to go, Jimmy?” Dean said brightly. Fakely. He tried not to flinch.

  “Yes.”

  “Here,” the nurse said, handing a large bag to Dean, “this is everything you will need for him stay with you.” The nurse had learned, she was very intelligent, he observed.

  “Thank you Miss Jessica Moore,” he said, trying his smile at her.

  She grinned back and patted his shoulder. “I wish you luck.”

  “Alright, let’s blow this joint.” Dean clapped his hands together. He did not understand the turn of phrase but he allowed Dean to lead him outside with a steady hand on his back.

  It was awkward when they got to the vehicle.

  He knew what they were and where to sit, but it took him a long minute at the handle. He blew out air in his frustration until Dean leaned over the passenger seat of popped open the door from the inside. He slid inside and fisted his hands in his lap.

  “I apologize, my fine motor control was damaged.” He muttered, not looking in case Dean’s face was full of pity. He did not want pity.

  “It’s fine, you deserve like a lifetime of excuses, James.” Dean started the car and pulled out of the hospital.

  It lapsed into silence.

  Not real silence, he was all too aware of the sounds of motors and cars and people and the music coming out of the speakers that was more a cacophony of sounds. And light. It was a lot brighter than in the hospital, real sunlight instead of fake. It glinted of metal and glared off the road. His head started to pulse along with his heartbeat, the beginnings of headaches.

  “So, Jimmy,” Dean made an attempt at conversation.

He snapped.

“Can you please stop that?” he said loudly.

Dean looked at him, aghast. He was a bit impressed by Dean’s ability to make full eye-contact and still drive.

“Stop what?”

“Calling me that.”

“What, your name?”

“No,” he hissed. “It is hardly my name. It does not mean anything to me. It is another person, a consciousness that happened to have the same face as me. I am not that person, and if the doctors are right, it is possible I will never be that person. Please do not call me by his name.”

  He let out the rest of the air in his lungs.

  There was a long pause. “Then what should I call you?”

  “I do not know,” he said softly, sadly. He felt bruised, but internally. Black-blue heart instead of black-blue skin. He pulled the wallet out of his pocket, the only thing he had from Before, and flipped it open. The motion was practiced, he had been doing it often in the past day. He stared at the drivers license, a card he had memorized at that point.

  His unsmiling face.

  James C. Novak.

  “I do not even know my middle name.” His voice hitched. It sounded so broken.

“C, huh?” Dean turned back to the road, forehead scrunching. “What about Castiel?”

He froze. “What?”

“Castiel, the angel of Thursday. Guess you kinda owe him your life.” Dean glanced over at him, reading the incredulous look on his face.

“What? My mom was into angels.” Dean hunched his shoulders. “So how ‘bout it, Castiel?”

He looked at Dean’s smile.

“Okay, Dean,” said Castiel.

 

‖

 

It was getting less weird. Maybe it was the different name, but suddenly Dean found that he was not actually feeling awkward about this whole… thing. Castiel was very polite, if a bit quiet. When they pulled up outside of Dean’s apartment he was quick to hop out and open the door for Castiel. Dean shouldered the bag of Castiel’s stuff and led them up the stairs to his door.

Dean loved his apartment. It was a bit expensive, but Dean had his job that paid well and a pile of insurance money that felt a bit awful to use but it had put Sam through college and Dean through trade school with some still leftover. His apartment was great, an awesome location close to his work and looking out over a park. It was the top apartment out of the bunch, high up with a decent sized balcony and lots of windows. Dean unlocked the door, letting Castiel go in before him. Castiel walked into the space, eyes wide open.

“It’s beautiful,” he said.

“Thanks.” Dean grinned.

It really was, ceilings in the combined kitchen/living room/dining room area that sloped up to accommodate the loft area on the right side.

“So, grand tour.” Dean said, kicking off his shoes and watched Castiel follow suit, “Kitchen to your right, feel free to help yourself to whatever, whenever. Living area in front of us, couches, TV, the basics. Table, pretty explanatory. Oh, and the door between those two lead out to the balcony you can see. You can explore that later. Um, besides that the spiral staircase lead up to the loft which is my room and a bit of storage. Otherwise, follow me and I’ll show you where you will be staying.” Dean knew he was rambling, but Castiel seemed to take it all in with a few nods.

“Alright, so,” Dean walked them into the hallway. “Bathroom is this door.” He jerked his thumb to the first door on the left, “And your room is this one.” Dean pushed open the door on the right hand wall and plopped the bag on the bed. Castiel wandered the room a bit before sitting down on the bed tiredly.

“Thank you.” Castiel said simply.

“No prob, sorry if it’s a bit drab. I don’t really have people over to stay very often…” Dean trailed off.

“It’s nice, I think I will rest well here.” Castiel smiled at him. It looked weird though. He stood again and said, “What is the other room? The third door?”

Dean grinned, “Let me show you.”

 

Castiel gasped as he entered the room. Dean smirked, pleased with himself. It was his favorite room too. Castiel did a circuit of the small room, running a reverent hand along the spines of the books that filled the floor to ceiling cases. There was also a small desk and a plush red chair in the room.

“It’s amazing,” Castiel breathed.

“I’m glad you like it. I have a bit of a problem, to be honest.” Dean scratched the back of his head.

“No,” he shook his head, “this is not a problem.”

“So… do you think you liked books? Before.” Dean asked, hesitant. Tessa had said to talk about Jimmy’s life, that it would help.

“I believe so.” Castiel’s brow furrowed. He crouched, pulling a book and slowly turning it over in his hands. His voice was soft and he didn’t look at Dean as he answered. “The right hemisphere of my brain is damaged. The left one identifies objects, places. I left the hospital and thought ‘that is a car’. That was my left brain. My right brain would have supplied any association to it, ‘that is Dean Winchester’s car’.” Castiel glanced up at him. “I know what things are, I know I have watched TV or gone swimming in the ocean or driven a car, but I do not know when. I do not remember who I went with or how old I was or what happened. I remember books, I remember how they smell and how they feel in my hands. I do not not remember my favorite book. I do not remember what type I liked.” Castiel was still staring down at the book when Dean sunk to the ground beside him. Dean carefully took the book out of his hands and set it back on the shelf.

“Well, I have a bit of everything here. I’m sure you’ll be able to figure it out.” Dean rested a hand on his shoulder and Castiel finally glanced up. “How about some incredibly early dinner? I’m hungry.”

Castiel brightened, “Yes, that sounds good. Hospital food was somewhat lacking, although I have nothing to compare it too.”

 

Dean shuffled around in the fridge. “I think I have enough stuff for meatloaf, sound good Cas?”

There was no reply.

“Cas?” Dean pulled his head out of the fridge. Castiel stood near him, frozen mid-step.

“Cas?” He echoed hollowly, frowning.

“Ya know, Castiel, Cas. A nickname.” Dean raised an eyebrow. “If it’s not okay I can call you something else.”

Cas coughed, “No, it’s fine. I like it. Yes, that sounds good.”

“Alright, one meatloaf coming up.” Dean said, digging back into the drawers. He tried to push the scared look on Castiel’s face out of his head. It was going to be fine, everything was going to be fine.

Dinner prep went pretty fast, with only a few bumps.

Dean had asked Cas if he minded cutting up some carrots, sliding a cutting board and knife in front of him before spinning back in the small kitchen to continue mixing. He didn’t even think about it until Castiel made a frustrated noise. Dean turned back to him and instantly felt like a horrible person. Cas was holding the knife awkwardly and making sloppy cuts.

“Shit, I’m sorry Cas, I didn’t think…” Dean started.

“I should be able to do this.” Castiel glared at the offending vegetable.

“It’s okay.” Dean gently took the knife out of Cas’s hand, “We’ll work on it.”

Castiel just frowned into the counter.

 

Dinner went a lot better.

Castiel moaned around the first mouthful and Dean couldn’t help but smile. After the first tentative bite, Cas really chowed down.

“This is very good, I do not have any memories of how food tastes.” Castiel wiped his mouth with his napkin.

“Well, we’ll have to remedy that.” Dean promised, “What do you want to do tonight? There’s TV, movies…” Dean trailed off as he took in the dark circles under Cas’s eyes, “...or you can just go to bed. You look exhausted.” Castiel brought up a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.

Cas nodded, “I am quite tired, apparently sleeping for a month and a half wasn’t quite enough.” He was up and walking away before Dean realized that was a joke. He snorted and began cleaning up from dinner. That was… different. Jimmy didn’t really make jokes. This would be fine, he would get a roommate for a few days, have someone to eat dinner with, it would be great. Dean filled the sink with soap suds. So what if he was a bit odd? He could handle it.

 

In the morning they ate cereal together, standing together in the kitchen and leaning against the counters. Dean set up Cas with movies and books he might be interested in, and then went to work.

For awhile he was nervous about leaving Castiel alone, but he gave him emergency numbers as well as his cell number so he should be fine. After the first few hours, Dean lost himself in the familiar world of motors and mechanical parts. He went home at five, cleaning the grease from his hands and declared the spaces underneath his fingernails a lost cause.

“Cas?” He called out when he entered the apartment. Hearing nothing, he shrugged and went up the staircase to his room. Castiel was probably asleep.

Dean jumped when he saw Cas sitting crosslegged on the floor in the middle of the room. All of the drawers were pulled out, contents dumped on the floor and strewn about the room.

Cas glanced up at him, “Why do you need so _many_?”

Dean watch, mouth open, as Castiel tossed a shirt from a pile in front of him to a empty spot on the bed.

  “Jesus Christ, Cas,” Dean said once he found his voice again. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

  Castiel seemed to miss the sarcasm dripping from his voice as he gave Dean an unabashed, imploring look.

  “No,” Cas leaned forward onto his knees, tugging on a the handle of his nightstand, “this compartment is locked.” He gave Dean another long meaningful look.

  Dean took a step back, holding his hands in front of him, “No way, I am not giving you the talk.” Dean sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, “I need a drink.”

  Cas gave him a grave nod, “Tessa did say that hydration is very important.”

  Dean groaned.

 

  Dean was heating up leftovers when Castiel finally descended from the loft. He glanced up, then did a double take.

  “Cas, where did you get that?” Dean asked, pausing what he was doing.

  Cas slid his hands over the fabric of the trench coat he was wearing over the hospital clothes. Dean made a mental note to go shopping or find some of his old clothes for Cas.

  “In a box.” Castiel answered simply, leaning on the other side of the kitchen counter.

  Dean frowned and resumed his work, “I’ve never seen it before in my life. Why are you wearing it?”

  “I was cold.”

  “Dude, it’s 70 degrees in here.” Dean snorted. Castiel made a befuddled face, like he couldn’t see the disagreement between those two statements.

They sat down for dinner, leftovers for last night, Dean was feeling lazy. Castiel took another slow first bite and smiled a bit.

“This is quite good, I’ve never had it before.”

Dean froze.

“Cas,” he whispered, “we had this for dinner last night.” Castiel looked up at him quickly, fear written across his face.

“Dean…” Cas’s breath hitched, “What did we do last night?” His breath was coming fast.

“I gave you a tour, we made dinner, you went to bed because you were tired.” Dean’s heart was pounding.

“Dean, I was going to ask you what was in the room at the end of the hall, the door was closed.” Castiel was hyperventilating, his eyes were starting to water. Dean was out of his chair in a second, flying to the other side of the table to kneel in front of Cas and take both of his hands in his.

“Cas, Castiel, look at me. It’s going to be okay.”

Cas was gulping air, “I can’t remember, I can’t remember. I don’t want to lose any more.” Dean’s chest felt too tight.

“I’m going to call Tessa, okay?” Dean fumbled for his phone as Castiel nodded. When she picked up the phone Dean cut her off before she had a chance to say much past hello. “Cas can’t remember what happened last night.”

“What?” she said, confused.

“Novak,” Dean corrected, giving Cas an apologetic twist of his mouth as the other man flinched. Dean stood up and paced away from him.

Tessa swore softly, “It’s possible that his short term memory was affected too.”

“But you said—”

“I said it was complicated,” Tessa bit out, “It’s not like a puzzle, Dean” Tessa says, exasperated, “It’s not like the car accident tore out a chunk and he’s just missing pieces. It’s more like a 3D interwoven tapestry and a something let loose with scissors, cutting strands. We can figure out what main parts were damaged, but one string connects to another and another and suddenly some completely different part is collapsing. We don’t know what’s going to happen to him. We have no idea. No one would be able to know. I’m sorry, but that’s the truth.”

“What can we do?”

Tessa hesitated, “Not much.”

Dean looked over at Cas who was still sitting at the table, head in his hands. His shoulders were shaking. “I have to do something.”

“Monitor when he has memory lapses.” Tessa suggested, “Figure out if there is some connection, whether they are increasing or decreasing frequency or time period.”

“Okay,” Dean sighed. “Okay.”

He hung up.

He left Cas at the table as he went into the library and dug out some stuff from the desk. When he got back he pushed the plate away from Castiel and plopped them down on the table.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Dean tried to inject as much authority into his voice as he could. “Everyday, you’re going to write down what happens.”

“I cannot write.” Cas’s voice broke, he looked up at Dean with a pained expression. Dean suddenly realized how infrequently Castiel made solid eye contact. They would work on that.

“I’ll do it then,” Dean threw out.

“You are at work for most of the day.”

“I’ll change my hours.” Dean gritted his teeth.

“You would really do this for me?” Castiel’s eyes softened.

“Loyal to a fault,” Dean smirked. “Okay, I’ll write down everything that we do, and then every morning you will read it and highlight any parts that you don’t remember or sound weird.” Dean scooted the composition notebook and the highlighter towards him. Castiel looked down at them with a glimmer of hope. Cas picked up the black pen that was sitting with a few other writing utensils.

“Write with this,” he said softly.

“Why?”

Castiel fixed him with solid gaze, “Permanence is important.”

“This going to be okay, Cas?”

Cas gave him a short, emphatic nod, “Okay Dean.”

 

‖

 

In the morning he called Bobby before he went down.

  “Hey, Bobby, I don’t know what Sam has told you but I need to switch around my schedule a bit. “

  “He filled me in. I don’t know how you keep gettin’ yourself into these messes.”

  “Yeah, well, sometimes they find me.” Dean’s mouth twitched.

  “What kind of schedule do you need?”

  “Uh, flexible?” Dean hedged.

  “What do you mean ‘flexible’?” The scepticism was evident in Bobby’s voice.

  “As in, Cas calls me I can immediately leave? Most days here, I could do some evening shifts, anything late would be good.”

  “Look, Dean, you have worked here since you were fifteen, no one’s going to begrudge you this. Do whatever makes sense to you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You still have that key I gave you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Come in whenever you have time. 24/7.”

  “Bobby, thank you, I can’t even—” Dean’s mind was boggling, this was perfect.

  “You mess up even one thing in the shop when I’m not there to monitor you, princess, I will not hesitate to shoot you.”

  “Got it Bobby.” Dean grinned.

  “Get going, do what you do best, idjit.” There was affection in his voice.

  “Ay ay captain.”

 

Castiel sat at the table with the notebook, eyes taking in everything Dean had written the night before. He gripped the highlighter a bit awkwardly in one hand. Dean tried not to smile at how Cas’s brow furrowed and his head tilted in concentration. He sat a bowl of cereal in front of Cas and smirked.

  “No matter how long you stare at it, it’s not going to burst into flames,” Dean quipped.

  “That is ridiculous, spontaneous combustion is a physical impossibility.” Cas set down the marker and picked up his spoon. Dean laughs and heads back to the kitchen to fix his own breakfast. It’s pretty quick, just dumping some Cheerios in a bowl and splashing in some milk (unlike Jo, who does it backwards. The heathen.) but by the time he got back Cas was gripping the spoon so tight his knuckles were white. Milk was splashed around the table and some it dripped down the side of the bowl.

  “Jeez, Cas, what’d it ever do to you?” Dean half-heartedly joked, shifting from one foot to another. Castiel glared at it, moving his hand down to try and scoop up some rings. His hand shook and it kept missing, catching nothing. Dean didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Cas looked on the crying end of things, eyes turning red.

  “I should be able to do this. I know I should,” Castiel whispers.

  “It’s going to be okay.” Dean sets his bowl quietly on the counter and moves towards him. Cas tries again to eat but ends up hitting the side and flipping the bowl. In a flash he threw the spoon across the room, making Dean flinch when it clanged into a wall. Castiel buried his head in his hands, shoulders shaking as milk dripped softly on the the floor.

  “I can’t—” Cas’s voice was muffled by his hands, “Why— I can’t do it, Dean I can’t—”

  “Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay Cas.” Dean kneeled, seeing a flashback to last night, and put an arm around Castiel. “You have a doctors appointment today, you can talk to Tessa about it, okay?”

  His shoulders stilled and Dean saw the minute nod.

  “See? It’s going to be fine.”

 

  It was not fine, definitely not fine.

  Dean escaped to his bedroom, telling Cas he had to change. He felt like he was on the edge of hyperventilating. Oh god, this was ridiculous. Dean laughed nervously, he couldn’t really be doing this. But he was. Jesus, he just looked so sad. He looked so broken and lost and Dean couldn’t just throw him out on street. Dean fumbled phone off of his bed.

  “Sammy.”

  “Dean, what’s wrong?”

  “Who says something’s wrong?” The teasing tone fell flat.

  “You are harboring an amnesiac who is having random short term memory lapses, as well as failing to retrieve any long term memory. Oh, and the fact that he could have a brain aneurism at any moment. I don’t think you would call me just to ask how my day was.”

  Dean whistled softly, “Maybe you should have gone into medicine, not law.”

  “My version of surgery involves dental floss, pen knives, and whiskey. I think I’ll stick to the lawyer-ing.” Dean could hear the smile in his little brother’s voice.

  “Well, at least one of the Winchester’s made something of himself.”

  “Firstly, that is blatantly untrue, and secondly I owe it all to you.”

  “Aw, that’s not true—”

  “No, listen to me Dean,” there was an edge to what he was saying, “ _you_ are the reason I made it through high school, _you_ are the one who got me to go to college, not Bobby, not _Dad_ ,” he spit that word, “It was you. Because you are my brother and you look after people. Not just the people you care about, but random people. Dean, you stopped on the side of the highway to help a stranger with their car and then when you couldn’t fix it you waited with them for three hours until a tow truck got there.”

  “Hey, Mrs. Gardner was nice, she bought me pie,” Dean interrupted.

  “That was four years ago and you still remember her name.” Sam gave an incredulous laugh, “You have helped so many people, but that doesn’t mean it’s your responsibility. James Novak had a freak accident and should have doctors and psychiatrists looking after him. This isn’t all on you.”

  “It was my fault.” It came out a whisper. “I asked him to meet me there, I distracted him, I wasn’t fast enough—”

  “It wasn’t your fault. It was the drivers fault. It was the extra second he took leaving, it was the random person he chatted with, it was what he ate for breakfast, it was any moment in his day that could have changed the outcome, but it is not your fault.”

  Silence.

  Sam sighed sadly, “How many?”

  “What?”

  “How many people do you have to save until it’s enough? Until you stop feeling so guilty for the mistake of a child?”

  “Jesus, Sammy…”

  “How many?” he demanded.

  “All of them.” Dean screwed his eyes shut. “Everyone I can.”

  “Then that’s your decision right there. Do it. Save him.” Sam hung up.

 

  Dean walked down the staircase. Cas looked up from where he had been sitting, reading a book. The car keys swung in his hand, a smile stretched his face.

  “Ready to go, Cas?”

  “I believe my appointment is not for another hour.” Castiel frowned at the clock in the kitchen.

  “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

 

  Dean thought it was a bit presumptuous of him to order for Cas, but he did it anyway. Two of what he usually got. Besides, Castiel was looking a bit nervous at the thought of food.

  They sat in the car in the parking lot after going to the drive through. Dean had decided to avoid lots of people. Castiel dug through the bag.

  “No utensils?”

  Dean grinned at the tentative hope on his face, “Nope. Finger food.”

  They dug into their burgers.

  Cas practically moaned, “These make me very happy.” Dean laughed as the other man tucked in.

  He couldn’t help but notice how Cas’s hands had stopped shaking.

 

 

  He felt a lot better.

  Not better-better, but better.

  Dean helped, a lot.

  He knew he was a mess, a wreck, barely holding on. But Dean was there for him, no matter what. Castiel felt the connection between them like a string, tying them together. He wished it was not there, because he knew this was temporary. Eventually they would find who he was and he would go to his family and stop relying on the kindness of strangers.

  He was scared.

  Tessa picked up on it right away, asking him if he wanted a cup of tea.

  Tea was fine, drinks were fine, hamburgers were fine. Cereal was not fine, spoons and knives and forks were not fine.

  He felt sick, it was getting worse after Dean had dropped him off and said he would be back with a shifty look in his eye.

  Castiel tried not to think about it.

  Tessa sat and Castiel held a cup of tea and they talked.

She said that his memory loss is very likely psychosomatic. Tessa paused there and gave him a deep look.

As if he could remember why his brain decided it wanted to stop being his brain anymore.

Perhaps it is better this way, perhaps the past life was so horrific it is better to not remember it at all.

Tessa did not like that answer.

He asked about his hands, why they too gave up on being his hands.

(Strangely enough, he felt more betrayed by them than by his brain.)

Tessa said his cerebral cortex was damaged, and that is what deals with his fine motor controls.

Castiel asked what part of his brain was not damaged.

He meant it as a joke but Tessa did not laugh. Dean is much better at jokes. Perhaps he could have made her laugh.

Castiel resolved to not make jokes to other people until he makes Dean laugh at one.

He felt a bit better.

  Not better-better.

  But maybe getting there.     

 

 

  Dean drives fast on the way back, but even so he manages to be fifteen minutes late. His chest hurts a little at Cas’s obviously relieved face. He was in too deep at this point, there was no way he would abandon him.

  “Heya Cas, sorry about that. I was running a bit late.” Dean jogged over to the sidewalk where Castiel was sitting. Dean made another mental note to get him more clothes. He was still wearing a pair of Dean’s jeans, a blue shirt, and that ridiculous trenchcoat. It was the same thing he had worn yesterday. Maybe Dean wasn’t cut out for this…

  “Dean,” Tessa called from just inside the door, “Can I talk to you for a second?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Not nervous, totally not nervous, “Cas, you want to wait in the car?”

  “Yes, Dean.”

  Tessa pulled him inside and Dean’s pulse sped up a bit, “I know I told you he needed a place to stay for a bit, but—”

Oh shit, she had totally found Jimmy’s family, Cas was leaving.

Cas was leaving.

Dean prepared his neutral agreeing face, _it will be good for him to be with his family_ on the tip of his tongue.

“— it seems that James Novak doesn’t have any living immediate family. All of his information on any aunts or cousins is behind several layers of bureaucracy. I tried to speak to the FBI, but they wouldn’t give me any information. I can try some other methods, but it’s going to take a while.”

“Wait, what?”

“I know you only agreed to a few days, but—”

“It’s fine.” he tried not to sound eager, but that failed a bit. He felt relieved that he was getting to keep Cas a bit longer but then also felt the pang in his chest when he realized that the only reason was because Cas had no one else to go to.

Tessa gave him a shocked look, “...really? Dean, this could take months.”

“Look, I know it’s not my fault directly, but that doesn’t mean I’m not responsible.” Tessa looked like she was about to protest. “And besides, you don’t have any better options, do you?”

Tessa glanced out the glass doors to where Castiel sat in the car, eyes closed with his head back.

“No, I don’t.”

 

Dean put his hands over Cas’s eyes right before they entered the apartment.

“What are you doing?” Castiel squirmed.

“It’s a surprise, you can’t see it until it’s perfect.” Dean was a mix of nervous and excited.

“Two surprises in one day?” his tone was suspicious.

“What can I say, I’m very surprising.”

Castiel made a noise of agreement, but then stopped dead when Dean lifted his hands off.

“Tada!” Dean watched Cas’s face for any hints of fear.

His mouth just gaped open, “Dean…”

“I thought we should do something, I don’t know. Made it through first day of therapy. Welcome to my humble abode. Something.” He stopped himself when he noticed he was rubbing his hands together.

“But… I can’t—” Cas stared helplessly at the table which was overflowing with food. There was even a sad little candle in the middle that Dean found in a drawer while looking for a lemon zester.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Sit down, and trust me.” Dean rested a hand on Castiel’s shoulder.

“Okay, Dean.” Cas sat, but he looked dolefully at the multitude of utensils laid to either side of his plate.

“Apparently, you’re supposed to work your way in from the outside.” Dean frowned.

“Work your way in for what?” Castiel was looking overwhelmed.

“All four course meals have a bunch of silverware, all the movie say so. Don’t worry,” Dean winked, “we’re going to do it the fun way.”

“What’s the fun way?” Cas glared at the three forks on his left.

Dean picked up the bowl of soup sitting in front of him and took a loud slurp from it. Castiel quickly glances up and saw what he was doing.

A glint of understanding and mischief flared in his eyes.

 

So it wasn’t exactly the fanciest dinner, but it was the thought that counted.

The soup was from a can, salad was in a bag, but he had cooked the small steaks himself. It wasn’t high-class, it didn’t deserve five stars, but it was still perfect.

The soup was definitely the easiest, they both decided.

Dean went as far as to lick the bowl which Castiel thought was amusing if a little unhygienic.

Salad was next, both of them laughing at the other picking up leaves dripping with dressing and getting their hands all dirty.

Cas insisted that Dean was the one to throw the first crouton, but by the end they were both clamoring for a cease fire.

The main course were little baby steaks, Dean had decided to go for quality over quantity.

It was a little weird and gross to pick it up and gnaw on it like cavemen, but they were both in stitches when Dean started making growling noises. He was worried for a second when Cas started coughing, but no heimlich maneuver was needed to move on to the last course.

Dean went into the kitchen and brought the pie out of the oven where it had been on a low temperature to heat up.

“As much as I love me some pie, I suck at making it. Luckily Marie down at the bakery is much better than I am.”

“I do not remember much about pie, besides its name.” Cas got the cute little divots between his eyebrows that meant he was really thinking about something.

“Prepare for a religious experience.” Dean cut him a slice and plopped it on his plate. It was sticky and warm and Castiel smiled softly every time he dropped cinnamony apple slices into his mouth and closed his eyes to enjoy it.

The sun had set during their marathon of a dinner and they were both a bit exhausted.

They piled all the dishes in the sink to ‘soak’ and it took a look between them to decide they could really use a soaking until morning. Admittedly, they were both a bit tipsy from the crappy box wine Dean had bought, but it just made everything better.

“So, how was your meal?”

 

 

  “Delightful, my compliments to the chef.” Castiel liked watching Dean smile, it seemed more religious than the pie.

“Good.” Dean bumped shoulders with him.

“Where did you even get this many different sized forks?” The wine was messing with his thoughts, leading them all over the place. He thought he might have disliked it, given the circumstances, but he found he quite enjoyed the warm feeling in his gut and the ease at which words left his mouth.

Dean laughed, “I actually borrowed them from two different neighbors. If I ever thought asking for a cup of sugar was weird, it was nothing compared to the looks I got asking for weirdly sized forks. But look at me, rambling on. Bed time?”

“Quite.”

“G’night, Cas.” Dean ascended the spiral staircase. There was something poetic to it, but Castiel could not quite figure out what.

“Goodnight, Dean.”

Castiel went to sleep feeling happy for the first time he could remember.

 

 

  “Hey Sam.”

  “Dean, it is really late.”

  “I know.”

  “...are you drunk?”

  “More yes than no. Cas and I had dinner. He’s staying. Maybe for a long time.”

  “Are you okay with that?”

  “I think so. I like it, having someone here, it’s nice.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Do… whatever we want to do. To him, he hasn’t done anything before. Go to the park, fly a kite, go to the zoo, finger paint, I don’t know. If we think of something, we’ll do it. Every whim, just go with it. Show him what it’s like to be human.”

  “Just go do stuff?”

  “Yeah, teach him about the world, let him see everything he lost so it’s not gone anymore.”

  “Be careful.”

  “I know, I know he has limits and everything but I’ll make sure he’s okay.”

  “No, be careful you’re not too good to him.”

  “What?”

  “He might just go and fall in love with you.”

 

  Funny thing, Dean was more worried the opposite might happen.


	2. Wake Up

When Cas wakes up Dean shoves a pile of old clothes in his hands and herds him towards the shower. Cas seems amazed at all of his options, he keeps asking why he needs to wear new clothes every day. Dean says he smells, which Cas doesn’t know is an insult yet. Even though his wardrobe isn’t limited to hospital clothes and one blue tshirt, the trenchcoat stays.

 

‖

 

In the afternoon the sun is streaming through the windows and Dean sits Cas down at the table with pieces of paper.

“What is this? I already read through yesterday.” Castiel looked up at him, eyes skittering away from contact.

“Yeah, but when we started this you said you couldn’t write.”

Castiel stilled, frowning down at his hands.

“Cas, you need to know how to write.” Dean said softly.

“I know how to write!” Castiel said angry, snatching up a pen. Quickly he scribbled on the paper. Dean glanced at the lines, they looked like characters, each one a distinct shape, but they weren’t actually letters.

Cas huffed out air in frustration, “I know words, I know how to read and I know how to spell. My hands… they do not remember.”

Dean placed a hand over Castiel’s, stopping the nervous twisting of the pen.

“We’ll work on it, okay?”

“Okay Dean.”

 

Dean taught him the alphabet.

It seemed silly at first, Cas already knew all the letters, but it still took a lot of time and concentration to get all the curves and lines down.

It got a bit easier after that, and they graduated to real words.

“Let’s start simple. My brother’s name is Sam, can you write that?”

Cas threw him a withering look.

The S was a bit too squiggly, but the A was facing the right way and Cas had M’s down pat.

“Why were you named Dean?” Castiel asked, hand already marking the wide curve of the D.

“After my grandmother, actually. Deanna.” Dean smirked a bit. He liked the way Cas focused on whatever he was doing, the determined look on his eye. Cas erased the E twice to make sure he had it perfect. Dean felt a little warmed.

“Okay, what’s next?” Dean asked after Cas finished the last bend of the N.

“My name.” Cas’s lips turned up in pride. Dean watched his hand move in shaky confidence until he couldn’t help but laugh.

“C-A-S-S?” Dean smiled.

Castiel’s brow furrowed, “Yes, Cass. My nickname.”

“Nah, it’s C-A-S, because it’s C-A-S-T-I-E-L. Why would there be two S’s?” He froze when he realized Cas’s lip was quivering, “I mean— Shit, sorry. You can spell your name however you want.”

Cas hastily scrubbed out the last S and added the T-I-E-L, “No, you are right. I like it better with one. I just…I do not even know how my own name is spelled.”

“It’s okay, it’s all really new.”

“How am I going to get better at this?” Castiel looked at the paper covered in shaky writing. A spark of inspiration struck Dean.

“How about any time you have a question you write it down?”

Cas opened his mouth but Dean quickly pointed at the paper. Castiel grumbled but painstakingly wrote out _what would this accomplish?_

Dean shrugged, “You get a lot of practice, it makes you work for it and then you get the reward of an answer. I know you have a lot of questions, it’s a great plan.”

 

It was not a great plan.

It lead to a couple frustrating hours where Dean realized just how much Castiel asked questions. He was getting a bit sick of pieces of paper getting shoved in his face.

Cas was getting frustrated too, the amount of work was showing as his handwriting got steadily worse and worse. Eventually Castiel found a way around it.

Dean didn’t notice for awhile, but when he did he was floored. Cas got really good at asking questions without asking questions.

“I’ll help with dinner” instead of “Can I help with dinner?”

“I would like to know more” instead of “Then what happened?”

Dean really caught on when Castiel fumbled.

“How do I— I mean, I am sure there is a better technique regarding—”

“Cas, no cheating!” Dean mock-glared.

“I would be very interested to see what you are going to do about it.” Cas smirked, full of mischief.

“Oh, now you’re gonna get it.” Dean flicked Cas with soapy dishwater.

The kitchen was a bit of a nightmare to clean up after that, but it was worth it to see Cas smiling with dripping locks of hair sticking to his forehead.

 

‖

 

Dean goes to work at odd hours.

  Two in the afternoon while Cas takes a nap.

  Three in the morning when Cas goes to bed.

  Any time Cas looks settled in with a book.

  Cas really likes to read. He tears through books, reading them in single sittings or at the very least spending a few hours curled up on the couch or in the library with a book clutched between his hands. In the evenings as they clean up from dinner, Cas tells Dean about all the stories he read. He likes the ones with heroes and adventures and morals. Dean likes the way his face lights up when he talks about books.

  It’s one of the few things that seem to really make him happy.

  It makes Dean feel less guilty about keeping Cas in the apartment all day long.

 

 

‖

 

Cas is getting suspicious.

  Dean can’t really tell over what, but Cas keeps shooting him glances every once and awhile. He can see that Castiel is having trouble focusing on his book, which mean something is really wrong. Dean set his own book down.

  “What is it Cas? What’s on your mind? Is it something Tessa said?” They had had a session earlier that afternoon and Cas and come out looking a bit rattled.

  “Tessa and I discussed human nature, how different philosophers saw people. A surprising number of them believed that humans are innately cruel and self serving unless they enter into the social contract that is society and governments. I said that I found it hard to believe because you were so kind to me. Tessa said that was because of your hero complex, that you were exceptionally generous. You took in a veritable stranger into your home, a stranger you just had the misfortune of finding. Why is that?” Cas locked eyes with him, something that never really happens. Dean could feel himself getting more nervous, the palms of his hands starting to sweat.

  “I don’t know, I couldn’t just leave you there. I knew I could do something, so I did, and—”

  “Then I started thinking,” Castiel interrupted him, gaze going cold, “You gave me so much already, even a nickname. A term of affection.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Dean’s throat felt dry.

  “In the hospital, you called me Jimmy. Not James, _Jimmy_. Why would you do that if you did not know me?”

  _Shit._

  “Look, Cas, I never meant—”

  “How did you know me?” Castiel’s voice was shaking with anger.

  Dean broke.

  “We were dating,” Dean looked at the floor, unable to meet Cas’s eyes. Oh, how the roles were reversed, “We went on four dates, you were my boyfriend.” He said the words apathetically, even though they felt awkward and untrue on his lips. Dean heard Castiel’s breath hitch.

  “How could you do that to me? Let me live here when you had so many memories of James. I am not him, I may never be him.”

  Dean had a million apologies on the tip of his tongue, but he wasn’t fast enough.

  Cas was already storming into his room, trailing his anger after him.

  He knew he should follow him, pull him back, apologize a million times, but he didn’t.

  He just sat there.

  In shock.

 

  It had seemed like a good idea at the time, let Castiel cool off overnight and then go talk to him, explain everything. Dean even made real breakfast, pancakes and bacon. He had hoped the smell of food would lure Cas out, but eventually he figure that he just had to man up and go talk to him.

  There was no answer when he knocked on Cas’s door.

  “Come on, open up. I want to say I’m sorry, but I kinda want to do it to your face.”

  No response.

  “I know, you have every right to be angry, but please can we talk?”

  Nada.

  “I’m sorry, god Cas, I’m so fucking sorry. It’s not like that, it was never like that. If there is any way I can make it up to you…”

  Dean opened the door slowly.

  His stomach dropped.

  Cas wasn’t there.

 

  “How long has he been missing?” Sam’s voice was calm, but Dean felt on the complete other side of the spectrum.

  “Uh, somewhere between 18 and 2 hours.”

  “You can’t file a missing persons report until 48 hours. So he just disappeared?”

  “Well…”

  “ _Dean_ , tell me what happened.”

  “We, uh, kinda got into a fight. I didn’t really tell him about me n’ Jimmy.” It all came out in a rush.

  “Dean, he’s not missing then, he left. Cas is an adult. He’s not legally living with you.”

  “Cas can’t survive completely by himself.”

  “I think you’ll be surprised. From your stories, he sounds pretty smart.

“What am I supposed to do?” Dean whined.

“Wait for him to come back? Call him?” Sam suggested, “That’s all you really can do.”

 

Dean didn’t call him.

But he texted a lot.

**11:06am > Cas I’m so sorry**

**11:07am >plz come back**

**12:24pm >i was going to break it off, we didnt really like each other that much**

**12:24pm >i wasnt into jimmy, i didnt know much about him**

**12:25pm >it wasnt working but he was nice so we went on a few dates**

**12:25pm >i was gonna break up with him that day, but then the accident happened**

**6:49pm >god i feel awful, plz come back**

**11:16pm >i felt so fucking responsible, like it was all my fault and it sort of was**

**11:32pm >i just want to make everything better, will you let me?**

**12:09am >dammit cas, where are you?**

**1:41am >im so fucking scared**

**3:28am >plz be okay.**

**7:30am >i had hoped i would go downstairs today and you would just be back, sitting at the table with your highlighter and your concentrated frown**

**7:31am >i felt so bad last night when i automatically pulled out the notebook and realized i had no idea what you did yesterday. i hope youre okay**

**9:01am >im so sorry, im so so sorry cas. i never wanted to lie to you it just seemed so much easier this way. im so fucking sorry**

**4:44pm >i didnt let you stay because of jimmy, that was never the reason**

**4:45pm >i did it at first because tessa asked me to and then because i liked spending time with you**

**4:45pm >you were the reason, because of how you appreciate food and how much you like books and the way you tilt your head when you are really thinking. god, how you really think abo**

**4:45pm >ut things. no one really does that anymore, but you do. you have such strong convictions and opinions but you also listen. its amazing**

**4:48pm >you’re amazing. **

**4:50pm >i miss you**

**7:53pm >its raining outside i hope you’re somewhere dry**

**8:04pm >but if you’re not, you could always come home.**

**8:05pm >Please come home Castiel.**

 

Dean jumped and spun as the door to his apartment slammed open. An angry Castiel stood there, rainwater falling off the ridiculous tan trenchcoat and onto the floor as he stormed forward. Dean’s heart felt like it was going to rip itself out of his chest, he felt so relieved. Cas was back, Cas was okay, oh god, he was safe. Every apology and excuse died on Dean’s lips as he took in the dark glint in Castiel's eyes. _Shit_ , he was so fucked.

“Why did you not tell me you were beautiful?” Cas’s voice was deep and icy.

“ _What?_ ” Dean was completely thrown.

“Why did you not tell me? I was among humanity for two days and I had thought that everyone would look like you, and-”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Dean had stood and took a few steps towards Castiel. He looked okay, no blood or bruises or anything. A bit dirty and soaked, but alive.

“I have a very limited resource for knowledge on humans, you should feel bound to at least be honest with me.” Castiel frowned, anger still evident in his stiff posture.

“Cas, what the fuck-”

“I once considered you to be an average reflection of the human race, but apparently that is quite facetious. By housing me you were given the responsibility of educating me about humanity, all the different forms of it.”

  “Calm down. Tell me what’s going on. I have no clue what you are talking about.” Dean was reaching for Cas, a hand grasping his arm.

Cas pulled out of his grip. “You are beautiful. The placement of your facial features, your freckles, your eyes. You are deemed attractive, aren’t you?”

Dean’s mouth was open and closing wordlessly. “I… I guess? I mean, people flirt with me and give me their numbers...”

  “You are very pretty Dean Winchester, but please never lie to me again.” Cas drew a deep breath and then walked determinedly to the bathroom. The door shut with a decisive thunk and Dean heard to the sound of the shower running.

  Dean did what any normal person would do, immediately sat on the cold wood floor and contemplated how this was his life.

 

After that, they start going outside a lot more.

 

‖

 

He can not stand being cold.

  It is vile, horrible.

  It seeps into his bones and makes him shake for hours.

  He remembers remembering winter, the ice and snow that would come down for hours and stay for weeks.

  How could anyone like it?

  The cold was his mortal enemy but he was having a difficult time fighting it.

  It does not seem to affect Dean as it does him, because it is always freezing in the apartment. He double layers Deans clothes (perhaps that is why he is never cold? Dean tends to wear several shirts at the same time.) and the old trenchcoat he found the first day. It had smelled like mothballs and dust and not like Dean, so he supposed that it was fine if he took it.

  Now it smelled like Castiel and that made him happy for some reason.

  It was his in a way that nothing else was, sure he had clothes but they were all Dean-clothes not Cas-clothes.

  He did not have anything else.

  He realized it after Dean…when he left. He did not have anything to pack. Just a battered tan coat and a wallet that belonged to a not-dead man.

  When Dean asked if he wanted to go somewhere (Dean looked nervous and excited. It was the first time they would go somewhere together, Castiel was feeling the same) he quickly answered to buy clothes.

  Dean took him to a place called ‘Salvation Army’ which sounded both lovely and awful. It was more lovely than awful on the inside, full of clothes. They were a lot like Dean-clothes, someone had owned them before. Dean explained that the people who had owned them did not want them anymore, so donated them for other people to have. Castiel felt better after that, he could make them Cas-clothes. He gravitated towards the long sleeved shirts with lots of buttons. Dean had a lot of them and Castiel liked how they looked on him, even though Dean never buttoned them.

He could not understand how Dean was never cold.

The ones Castiel picked were not like Dean’s, all squares and lines and colors. His were more simple, plain.

He liked it.

Dean was smiling, so he must like them too.

Dean left him to do his own shopping and Castiel knew exactly what to get next. The girl with a name tag helped him when he explained his problem. She took him over to the section labeled ‘Sweaters’ and winked at him. Was that the ‘flirting’ Dean had mentioned?

He liked sweaters.

He picked ones based not on what they depicted, but on how they felt.

He liked the wool ones, how thick they were.

He liked the bulky ones, how well they kept in warmth.

He liked the ones with long sleeves that pulled over his hands and kept him protected.

(He especially liked the ones with hole for his thumbs, humans were quite ingenious)

He like the ones that you pulled on more than the ones that buttoned but he liked both of those more than the ones with a big pocket at the front.

He did not buy any of those.

(Except a grey knit one that had one little pocket on either side and he supposed that was alright)

He liked the soft ones most of all, they felt nice on his skin.

 

Dean met him at the register and laughed at his armfuls of sweaters. Castiel was offended for a second until he realized that Dean was also smiling.

Dean called him a dork, but it was said with affection.

Castiel supposed that it was like a nickname in that way.

 

When they got home Castiel changed into a white button down with a soft light blue sweater and he was warmwarmwarm and Dean had still not stopped smiling.

 

‖

 

  Dean raises half way to consciousness with a finger poking his arm.

  Repetitively.

  “Stop it Sam, lemme alone.” he whines and rolls over.

  “Dean. Wake up.”

  Not Sam.

  Dean opens an eye blearily, “Cas? Go back to sleep.”

  “I want to play a game.”

  “Oh Jesus, please tell me there wasn’t a Saw marathon on TV.” Dean groaned and flipped back over to face Castiel.

  He frowned, “I do not understand that reference.”

  “Why do you want to play a game at,” Dean glanced at the red numbers on his bedside table, “Cas, it’s 3am, go back to bed.” His eyes closed again.

  “Dean.” The insistent finger was back, jabbing his shoulder.

“What, Cas?” he was getting irritated.

“Dean, I cannot sleep.” The words were soft and sad. Dean opened his eyes to get a better look. Castiel looked exhausted, dark bags under his eyes and a pitiful look on his face.

“Can’t sleep like can’t fall back asleep or can’t sleep you’ve been up this whole time.” The hesitant pause told Dean the answer to his question. “Cas…”

“I want to play a game.” Castiel poke his shoulder again, more firmly.

“Fine, fine. I don’t know if I own any games besides a pack of cards or something…” Dean trailed off, looking at Castiel.

Cas held up the game with a small smile, to Dean’s “Where did you even _find_ that?”

 

Which is how Dean ended up playing Sorry with Cas at three am and made them french toast at seven am when Castiel, finally, got bored.

 

‖

 

There were a lot of little things.

  Like Cas asking him to turn down the music in the car but Dean saw him still wincing so he just turned it off.

  It stayed off, after that.

  Like how sometimes Cas didn’t want to eat anything even after he had learned to control forks better.

  Like how Cas shied away from the windows at noon and retreated to the library for hours.

  Like how Dean would catch him crying and both of them would pretend it never happened later when they ate dinner.

  Like when Dean and Cas had the same conversation four times in one day and Dean was choking back tears by the end of the third one.

  Dean knew they weren’t just little things.

  He knew, Cas knew, they just pretended.

  It was a lot easier that way.

  But _little things_ have a tendency to become _big things._

  And they did.

 

‖

 

The sweaters helped a lot.

  He still dragged blankets around with him when he switched his reading spots, but that was understandable. Dean smiled and shook his head but did not say anything.

  Then Castiel discovered tea.

  Dean drank coffee in the morning and Castiel _did not like it_ (too bitter, too gross), so Dean bought him a box of peppermint tea.

  Castiel thought he may have found God.

  He loved how it tasted, herbal and natural and somehow _wholesome_. It was all well and good but nothing compared to how it _felt_.

  It slipped down his throat all soft and helpful.

  It pooled in his chest.

  Castiel finally felt so warm.

  Heated, inside out.

  The hot cup clutched in his hands, the feathery steam brushing his face, warm liquid seeming into his bones and joints and stomach and making him finally, blissfully, _warm_.

  Castiel built his obsession quickly.

  Soon, a multitude of boxes piled up in Dean’s kitchen cabinets. Peppermint, green, black, chai, lemon, chamomile. He liked the ones with longer names, like English Breakfast or Lady Grey. He liked the ones with odd names like Oolong and Rooibos. He liked the fancy infuser Dean bought him for the good-smelling loose leaf teas like ‘Jade Citrus Mint Green Tea’ and ‘Wild Orange Blossom Herbal Tea’.

  Castiel loved tea, it made him not feel cold anymore.

  Not empty.

 

  Until he discovered what it was like to kiss Dean, which worked much better, and became his new obsession.

 

‖

 

  Dean fell asleep a lot in the evenings.

  Cas didn’t sleep very well at night, and ever since the board game incident Dean told him to wake him up if he is having a rough night. Dean didn’t realize that every night is a rough night. Castiel usually napped in the afternoon, so Dean went to work then. Upshot, Dean was constantly tired.

  Not that it was a big deal, their evenings together were nice and… peaceful. Cas curled up on one end of the cough with whatever book he was currently reading and Dean usually wrote what Castiel did that day in the notebook and then watched TV. Or, more accurately, put on the TV and then promptly fell asleep. It was a routine at this point.

  Around midnight Castiel would wake Dean up and he would go to work for a few hours while Cas read more. It was safe then, to go to work. He risked it in the afternoons when Cas was sleeping, but the 12-3 time was really best. Castiel said his mind is rested then, even if his eyes never close. Dean alway came home before three, because that was when Cas needed him. Usually Dean finally fell asleep at four and stayed asleep until eight, but as long as he gots four hours he would be fine. Cas got a lot less, sometimes he didn’t sleep at all.

  Dean tried not to think about it.

  One night Dean fell asleep and Castiel didn’t wake him up.

  His body must be used to it or something, because he found himself stirring. The clock said it was two am, but he couldn’t really make himself care.

  “Hey, Cas, why didn’t you wake me?” he mumbled, scrubbing a hand over his face.

  “Do humans really find this enjoyable, Dean?” Cas was staring at the TV, an utterly baffled expression on his face, “It looks rather painful.”

“What? What are you— Fuck, Cas, are you watching porn?” Dean’s mouth dropped.

“I am trying to figure out how it is enjoyable.” Castiel squinted at the screen.

Dean was shocked into silence.

Cas glanced over at him, eyes dipping down to his lips. Dean’s heart skipped a beat as he realized what was about to—

Cas’s lips were on his, a soft simple press. Then, they were gone. Dean blinked a couple times up at Castiel. Dean felt his heart palpate again when Cas licked over his top lip and then sucked his bottom, like he was trying to find the _taste_ of Dean.

Castiel looked over at him, cocking his head, and then leaned back in.

“Hold up,” Dean places firm hands on Cas’s shoulders, holding him back, “You can’t— You can’t just _do_ that. Not just to test it out, you kiss people because you love them.”

Cas’s brow furrowed and he glanced at the television, “If the pizzaman truly loves this babysitter, why does he keep slapping her rear?”

“Okay, fine,” Dean let out a frustrated (no, don’t think about it) breath, “You don’t have to love them, but you have to like them. Like who they are, their personality, and what they look like. I guess.”

Castiel tipped his head again, “I like you.” Dean felt the other man’s hands fist his shirt and he realized how close they were. Dean was reclining spread at an awkward angle on the couch with Castiel leaning over him. Jesus, one move of Cas’s leg and he would be straddling him. No, no, he couldn’t do this.

“Romantically,” he gasped out, “You need to like them romantically.”

“I already told you I think you are very pretty Dean.” Cas pushed Dean hands off his shoulders. Dean tried not to read too much into the fact that they automatically went to Cas’s waist. Castiel leaned closer to him, their faces inches apart.

“Huh. I guess you did,” Dean said, thoughtlessly.

“Can I kiss you again?” his breath ghosted over his cheek.

“Yeah, yeah Cas.”

This time Dean closed the distance, using his grip on Cas’s waist to drag him closer, practically on top of him. Their mouths moved, overlapping and awkward as Dean tried to get his mind together. Finally, Dean caught Cas’s bottom lip and Cas gave a surprised little gasp. Yeah, he could work with that. Dean moved them together again, taking the pause to lick into Cas’s mouth. It was sloppy as hell but it was hot and perfect and Cas’s hand was drifting up Dean’s chest and tangling in his hair. Suddenly Castiel’s hand wasn’t petting but gripping and yanking his head back and, yeah, it was Dean’s turn to gasp.

Cas fell on him, weight pushing him into the couch. Dean could feel the material rubbing the small of his back where his shirt had rucked up behind him. Cas kissed him, determination bleeding into the press of his lips and the little hitching sounds his breath was making.

“Dean—”

Shit, his voice was _wrecked_.

Dean didn’t really know how his hands had gotten under Cas’s shirt but he liked how they felt running up and down his sides and skittering over his ribs. He didn’t really know his hips had gotten bracketed by Cas’s knees and legs but he liked the warmth and pressure and everything feeling-smelling-tasting like Cas. God, he liked this, he liked this too much. Way too much.

Dean stopped himself before he could roll his hips up, that was way too fast. He needed to slow down, everything heat and burning and he needed to _stop_.

“Cas, Cas,” he choked out. He reluctantly pulled his face away. Barely. They rested their foreheads together, breaths still coming quick and Dean’s heart hammering. Cas looked a bit confused and more than a bit debauched, lips all red and slick. Dean grinned up at Cas until his eyes started to cross and Cas looked a bit like a cyclops.

Cas smiled back.

“I like you Dean.”

“Like you too Cas.”

 

He was predictable.

Fine, he admits it.

“What did you do now, Dean?” Sam asked over the phone.

“Why do you automatically assume I did something?” Dean grumbled, then paused. “Cas kissed me.”

Sam sucked in a breath, “What did you do?”

“Explained in what situations you kiss people, that you don’t just do it to friends.”

“Okay, but if you just did that you wouldn’t have called me and sounded so guilty.”

Sam had known him since he was four, he should really stop being quite so surprised when he knew exactly what Dean was thinking.

“Okay, so maybe he said he understood and then we kinda made out?” Dean hedged.

“Dean…” Sam sounded disappointed.

“Hold on a second, I know it sounds awful be he seemed really confident. And like a couple days ago he mentioned that he thought I was pretty, uh, pretty attractive.”

“Yeah, but Castiel knows, oh right, one person. Not that you’re not worth his affections, but he can’t really compare you to other people. You’re it.”

“He knows Tessa, she’s kind of cute.” Dean argued.

“You and I both know that doesn’t count.”

“Come visit,” Dean said on instinct.

“ _What?_ ” Sam exclaimed.

“You’re right, he needs to know more people, come meet him.” Dean liked this idea more and more. “Besides, I haven’t seen you in ages. We live an hour apart and it’s been like two months since I’ve seen your ugly mug.”

“Really?” Sam sounded sceptical.

“Friday, seriously.”

“Uh, okay. See you Friday.”

“Don’t make it a big deal. Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

 

‖

 

  They didn’t go to the Roadhouse (he didn’t need an interrogation yet, Sam. Besides, Jo might eat him alive.). They went to some other bar where it was far less likely that every single person there will know them.

It went pretty good.

Well, Sam could be best friends with almost everyone with his puppy dog face and endless enthusiasm. And Cas… well, Cas was Cas. They got along famously, and Dean would be a bit jealous if he wasn’t just go freaking proud of Castiel.

Sam talked about his job, fancy-shmancy lawyer, and Cas asked a lot of questions. At the beginning he had shot Dean a look and said, “You better not make me write all these down.” Dean had laughed and while Sam was confused he was also smiling.

“She really sued her husband for child negligence?” Castiel leaned over the table towards Sam.

“Ex-husband, but yeah. I had to listen to her for over an hour ranting about her ‘precious baby’ and ‘that awful man’ forgot to feed her and the whole time I’m just sitting there staring at this tiny dog dressed up in this pink matching outfit.” Sam shook his head.

“That’s ridiculous.” Castiel’s mouth twitched up in a smile. “How do you put up with it?”

“Well, they pay me lots of money.” Sam drank down the rest of his beer. “Here, let me get the next round.” Dean smiled at his brother at he loped off towards the bar.

“Thank you,” Cas said turning from where he was seated next to Dean.

“Yeah? What for?”

“Introducing me to Sam, taking me here, taking care of me. I do not deserve it but you do it anyway.”

“Aw, Cas come on—” Cas silenced him with a short kiss.

“Thank you Dean,” he said softly.

“You’re welcome Cas.”

The night passed amicably. They finally left around ten, Sam a bit tipsy but Dean had cut himself off an hour ago so he could drive. As they left the bar Dean looped an arm around Cas, drawing the other man into his side.

“ _Faggots,_ ” a burly man coughed as he passes them. His two friends laughed.

“Excuse me?” Sam said loudly. “What did you say about my brother?”

“Sammy, let it go,” Dean says softly. He’d been dealing with this shit all his life, some people just couldn’t understand how someone who looked like him could also like girls. He had pointed out so many times that assuming people’s sexuality based on their physical appearance perpetrated so many negative stereotypes, that eventually he just gave up. People can talk shit all they want, it doesn’t actually affect him anymore.

“Yeah, _Sammy_ , listen to your fairy of a brother,” a different one said, giving them a sneer.

Sam took a step towards the trio, “You really want to pick a fight with us? That sounds like a good idea to you?”

A last one, wearing a frankly awful leather jacket, cracked his knuckles. “I think we could take on a couple of fags and a girl.”

Dean lunged forward, grabbing Sam and hauling him back before his brother could throw a punch. Unfortunately, that meant that he left Cas unattended on the sidewalk.

Castiel stepped forward and cocked his head at the three men. “Your overcompensation is quite impressive.”

“What?” Burly said.

“Your overcompensation.” Cas’s eyebrows pulled together, “You know, how you insult and demean gay people to cover for your own homosexual tendencies.”

“What are you talking about?” Leather Jacket spluttered.

“Oh,” Castiel smiled, wide and fake, “Two of you. No wonder you could not resist a jibe here. No need to cover your desires with hostilities, I too think my boyfriend is quite pretty.”

“Now you’re gonna—” Burly rushed forward and Dean watch in horror as the guy threw a punch towards Cas and… missed? No, Cas _dodged_. Suddenly Cas had stepped to the side and used the momentum of Burly’s attack to pivot the guy and throw him to the ground. Instantly Cas was spinning, decking Sneer in the face and then grabbing his shoulders. Dean’s horror turned into amazement as Cas slammed Sneer down as the same time as he brought up his knee. There might have been a cracking noise. Sam had stopped struggling, just standing there mouth gaping. Castiel was advancing on Leather Jacket, grabbing his fist as the man tried to take a punch and then twisted his arm behind his back and slammed the man into the wall.

“I guess you were wrong.” Jesus, Cas didn’t even sound out of breath, “Maybe next time you will think before you act.” Cas let go and walked back to where Dean and Sam were standing on the sidewalk.

“Cas… holy shit.” Dean let go of Sam to pull Cas in close to him.

“Where did you learn how to do that?” Sam’s voice was full of amazement. “I mean, shit, sorry.”

“I… I just did it. I did not think about it, I just did it.” Cas mumbled into the hollow of Dean’s throat.

“Come on,” Dean stroked his back, “Let’s go home.”

Cas nodded shallowly.

 

That night Castiel fell asleep at 11 curled up on the couch with his head on Dean’s lap. The brothers watched a movie on low volume.

“Do you think Jimmy knew kung fu?” Sam whispered after an hour of Cas’s even breathing.

“That or he joined the Matrix,” Dean whispered back.

“I wonder where he learned that.”

He tried not to think about the follow up question, if Cas would ever remember where he learned it.

Dean carded his fingers through Cas’s hair, “I guess there could be all sorts of mysteries locked up in here.”

He didn’t know if he wanted to know.

 

‖

 

  On a Saturday afternoon, after they were filled with pancakes and bacon and lazing on the couch watching bad cartoons, Dean took Cas to the animal shelter. Castiel’s face filled with amazement as he saw all the dogs and cats. He took the good from it, not the bad.

  “All of these animals,” he said softly, holding out a hand to a twitchy beagle. “All of these animals were saved?”

  Dean felt choked up. “Yeah Cas, they were all saved.”

  The nice volunteer girl, Megan, let them go into a room in the back where the more social animals were allowed to play. Dean sat in a corner and let Castiel wander around and interact with all the animals. Cas said stuff to them as he petted them, little nonsense words and sentences too quiet for Dean to hear.

  A little wobbly kitten tottered over to Dean, unsure on it’s three legs. Dean scooped it up, letting it rub it’s head on his palm and twist it’s tail around his thumb. Dean looked up to see Cas standing over him, a small grin on his face.

  “I think the cats like you,” Castiel said, a glint in his eye.

  “Oh no, Cas—”

  Over the next hour Castiel dumped kitten after kitten in Dean’s lap. Some of them tried to escape, others gave up after Cas had corralled them a few time and resigned themselves to napping all spread out on and around him. Eventually Castiel got bored of circulating the room and playing with the more excitable dogs. He walked over and sat down next to Dean, shifting the cat on his left shoulder to his right shoulder. Cas rested his head on the now-empty spot.

  Dean glanced down at the brown bundle Cas was slowly petting. The rabbit poked its head out and sniffed the air. Castiel followed Dean’s gaze and half-smiled at the rabbit.

  “Pretty, is she not?”

  “Yeah.” Dean wasn’t watching the rabbit, but Cas’s face. He was looking at it like it was the most precious thing in the world. Dean felt a pang in his chest when he remembered that his apartment complex didn’t allow pets.

  “This is nice,” Castiel sighed, laying more weight on Dean’s side. It was warm, comforting. Perfect.

  “Yeah Cas.”

  They sat there in silence for a long second.

  “Do you think they have guinea pigs?” Cas asked, glancing up at him.

  Dean laughed, “Don’t get your hopes up, but maybe.”

  Castiel shifted back to lean his head on his shoulder, “I would like to see one.”

  “Will do.” Dean turned him head and kissed the other man’s forehead.

  They sat there for a long time, covered in kittens and holding a rabbit.

  They go back every Saturday.

 

‖

 

  The television was sometimes (lots of times, most of the time) too much for Cas. They sat together in the evenings, Cas with his ever-present book. Dean saw him flinching at commercials and turned it down and then more down and then more down as Castiel whimpered and whispered “Too loud, it hurts my head. Sorry, Dean, I’m sorry.”

  But Dean just shushed him and put it on mute with subtitles while Cas burrowed into his side and drew the blankets around the two of them. They sat in silence for hours, Cas reading, Dean slowly drifting off. On nights Dean didn’t work they fall asleep like that, curled around each other.

  His back started hurting, the couch is comfortable but not that comfortable. He felt like an old man, he joked to Cas even though Cas doesn’t laugh. One night Dean woke up with pain in his back and a crick in his neck so he picked up Cas and carried him to his own room. Castiel shifted when Dean lay him down in familiar sheets they weren’t using so much these days.

  “Stay.” Cas grabbed his sleeve.

  “You sure?” Dean hesitated. Cas just tugged his sleeve again until Dean lay down in the darkness. They woke up tangled together and Dean felt guilty.

 

  Until the next day that they fell asleep on the couch.

  “I’m going to bed, you wanna stay here or go to your room?” Dean poked at Castiel’s shoulder. Cas just groaned and stood up to follow Dean, not even bothering to open his eyes. Dean goes to climb the stairs to his loft when Cas grips the back of his shirt.

  “Why did you stop?” Castiel’s voice was sleep-rough and adorable.

  “Cas…”

  “I sleep better with you there.” Small, scared.

  “Okay,” Dean relented.

  From then on they didn’t sleep on the couch anymore, but together on Dean’s bed.

  ‘How good Cas looks on his bed’ goes into the long list of things Dean’s trying not to think too much about.

 

‖

 

  Dean saw it at a garage sale as he was driving past and he just had to stop.

  It was a bit expensive, but totally worth it when he saw how Cas’s face lit up when he saw it.

  “You bought a record player,” Castiel whispered, dragging a finger across the wood.

  “For you. It’s your record player.” Dean slipped his arms around Cas’s waist and rested his head on the other man’s shoulder.

  “Thank you Dean.” Cas twisted his face and kissed him softly.

  “How ‘bout we test it out?” Dean grinned.

 

  That night they drank cheap red wine and danced around like idiots to old records, stocking feet sliding on the wood floor, arms slung happily around each other.

  That night they made out, sloppy and tipsy and perfect.

  That night they fell asleep together and warm and happy.

  That night it was like nothing was wrong.

‖

  The next morning Cas couldn’t get out of bed no matter what Dean tried.

  He called Tessa but she said there was nothing to do, just hope his scrambled brain figured out it was making the wrong hormones.

  They’re hoping a lot of things these days.

  Dean went downstairs without Cas and bit back tears.

 

‖

 

  Dean took Cas to the zoo after Cas spent twenty minutes in the park following a squirrel.

  The girl who handed them their tickets thought they were _adorable_ and proceeded to probably text all her friends about it. They wandered around aimlessly. They saw zebras and lions and monkeys. They saw tigers, flamingos, ostriches, and peacocks. Cas was amazed by the colourful ones, but he seemed to like the small animals best, like the meerkats and koalas.

  “What do you like?” Castiel asked.

  Dean shrugged. “Pretty neutral, whatever you want to see.”

  “That is not an answer, Dean.” Cas hummed.

  “Uh… the penguins are kinda cool.” Dean blushed. Castiel dragged him to the Polar Exhibit and agrees that yeah, the penguins are pretty cool.

  “They are birds but not birds.” Cas watched the little black-white shapes zipping through the water.

  “They are still birds, silly. They just don’t fly.” A voice popped in. A blonde boy stood next to them, hands pressed into the glass. Castiel automatically reached down and helps the kid step up to the higher platform where he can get a better look.

  “How do you know about penguins?” Cas asked.

  “My dad read me a book about them.” The kid puffed out his chest. A pained look passed over Castiel’s face.

  “Hey, you alright?” Dean put a hand on his back.

  “Fine, my head… I am fine.” Cas put a hand on his head, ducking to look at the ground. “Can we go somewhere else?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Bye!” The kid waved to them. Dean waved back, hustling Castiel out.

  “You really okay?” Dean kept his arm around the other man, disapproving parents be damned.

  “Is there somewhere quieter to go?” Cas was still curled in, shoulders hunched up in pain.

  “I know exactly where to go.”

 

  The Conservatory was empty.

Kids liked the big animals, plants weren’t really their thing. But Dean knew there was way more to this place than the plants. There was a reason there was a huge glass enclosure.

“Dean…” Castiel spun around, mouth gaping. The butterfly exhibit was one of the secrets about the zoo, they didn’t really advertise it because they didn’t want a lot of people visiting. The exhibit was home to a lot of endangered species and children were notoriously clumsy.

“Dean, this is amazing.” Castiel was still spinning, taking in the huge room filled with fluttering butterflies.

“Right? I wouldn’t even know about this place if it wasn’t for— speak of the devil.”

“Dean! How is my second favorite Winchester?” A brunette bounced towards them, a grin on her face and her arms open.

“Ouch, Madison. Twist the knife a little deeper, why don’t you?” Dean returned the hug.

“Ooh, and who’s this?”

“Maddie, this is Castiel. Castiel, this is Madison. Animal trainer extraordinaire, all around badass who just happened to have bad enough taste to date my brother.”

“It was college, you were just jealous.” Maddie grinned.

“Hello.” Cas extended a hand and they shook, Madison’s eyebrow lifting.

“Polite? Cute? Nice job, Winchester.” She punched his shoulder. Dean tried not to stagger back a step; Madison was deceptively strong.

“What do you train? I assume it is not butterflies.” Castiel asks.

Madison laughs, “No, I got hired a few months ago to start working on the new exhibit. I’m currently training five wolves to be shown in front of crowds. It’s a campaign to destroy the stigma surrounding wolves. If their kids think wolves are adorable, maybe the parents will stop killing them. But it’s still a work in progress so sometimes I come here and help out. Joshua does a great job, but he’s getting up in years. I do all the heavy lifting.” She mock flexes her arm.

“That’s very admirable,” Castiel said.

“Well, I get paid.” Madison shrugged, “So, want a tour or do you just want to commune with nature?”

“Let’s just wander.” Dean hugged Madison again. “See you later.”

“Have fun.” Madison wiggled her fingers and moved her eyebrows suggestively.

 

 

He liked the butterfly garden.

It was very tranquil and beautiful, full of flashing colours.

They wandered, Castiel a couple steps ahead of Dean, mesmerised by the small creatures lazily passing by his head.

“How many species are there?” Castiel asked.

“Uh, in here I think there are like 40. I dunno how many in general. We could look it up later if you really want.” Castiel did not know what Dean’s face looked like in the moment, but he suspected that he was smiling.

“Do you know what they are?” Castiel paused by a bush that had many on the flowers, collecting the nectar.

“Some, the basic ones. Monarch, Tiger Swallowtail, Blue Morpho, Ulysses.” Dean gestured to a few of them.

“Which one is your favorite?”

Dean blushed, Castiel decided he liked it when Dean blushed, “Maybe we can find her later. What do you like?”

Castiel considered the question, then pointed, “That one.”

“Cas, that’s a bumblebee,” Dean laughed.

“I like it, it seems peaceful.” Castiel unconsciously followed the bee when it started flying away. He looked back at Dean for a second.

“Go, follow your bee friend,” Dean smiled. “I’ll stay here.” He patted the bench next to him.

 

He returned to Dean after quite some time.

“How did you find the bees? Are they ready to accept you into the hive?” Dean joked.

Castiel found himself smiling, “I believe I am too big to fit.”

Dean laughed aloud and Castiel felt something constrict in his chest. It was pleasant but slightly painful.

“Want to meet my favorite butterfly?” Dean snickered at himself. “I can’t believe I just said that. You’ll understand when you meet her though.” Castiel felt himself nodding along immediately.

 

“She’s a Queen Alexandra’s Birdwing Butterfly,” Dean said, a speck of pride in his voice.

Castiel was speechless.

“Pretty, ain't she?” Dean held out of the arm the butterfly was perched on. “On the Endangered Species list, I keep telling Madison they should get her a boyfriend.”

Castiel still could not say anything.

Simply put, the butterfly was massive. The wingspan looked easily a foot, huge brown wings with yellow spots. The butterfly was crawling up Dean’s arm, which had him laughing.

“She’s not my favorite just because she’s pretty, she’s also a sweetheart. Aren’t you? Go say hi to Cas.”

Castiel tried to protest, but Dean was already delicately scooping up the butterfly and placing it on Castiel’s arm.

“Hello.” he said softly, looking down at it. Castiel tried to move his arm up to get a better look, but it startled the butterfly into flight. They stood there, silent, watching it disappear into the foliage.

 

 

Cas fell asleep in the car on the way back.

Dean counted it as a Good Day.

 

‖

 

  “What do you call a fish with no eyes?” Dean craned his neck to look at Cas. They were curled up on the floor, a tangle of blankets around them. Castiel was sitting with his back on the wall and his legs stretched out. Dean was lying with his head on Cas’s lap, fingers gently moving through his hair. Dean shook the joke book in Cas’s direction.

  “Come on, fish without eyes.” Dean said again. Jokes were something Castiel had wanted to work on, and it just took one trip to the library to get them set up.

  “I would assume a blind fish, but I fail to see how that is funny.” Cas frowned at Dean.

  “A Fssshhhhhhhh.” Dean started laughing.

  “I do not understand.” Castiel was not laughing.

  “It’s a play on words, because you say it the listener thinks you mean physical eyes, the things in your head. Ow, stop it Cas, yes those. But the joke is that you’re actually talking about the letter I and ‘Fish’ without an I is just fssshhhhhh.” Dean laughed again.

  “I see. Many jokes are like this, correct? They are funny because the multiple meanings of words create confusion.”

  “I guess. Like, here’s another. Why is six afraid of seven?” Dean looked up at Castiel. The other man had a deep look of concentration on his face and his hand had stilled in his hair.

  “I assume it is because seven is a prime number, and prime numbers can be intimidating.” Castiel nodded decisively and looked down. “What? Dean, why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Don’t ever change Cas.” Dean smiled softly at him.

  “Tell me another.” Castiel went back to petting his hair.

  “Lemme find a good one…”

 

‖

 

Besides the meetings with Tessa every Tuesday and Friday, Cas had a physical evaluation at the end of every month. Usually Dean dropped Cas off at Tessa’s and worked for awhile until it was time to pick Cas up, but he was scared about the doctors appointment.

  Dean went with.

  Dean talked to Castiel the whole time, talking about how much he didn’t like hospitals, but they’re part of life. The doctor joked with them about how lucky they are not to work at one and Cas finally gave a nervous smile.

  They went to see Tessa, together.

  Dean knew Cas talked to Tessa about him, about them, but he didn’t know if Tessa approved or anything. At the very least, she hadn’t told Castiel to stop seeing him romantically. That had to be something.

  “Well Castiel, you are in very good health.” Tessa skimmed the document before her. “I think it’s time we took a more aggressive strategy.”

  “What does that mean?” Dean leaned forward. Cas looked nervous again.

  “We’ve acted very passively, talking through the accident and his recovery. We discussed what he has done since then in the hope that rationalizing everything that has happen would subconsciously allow his memories to come back. But so far, nothing.”

  Castiel gripped Dean’s hand underneath the table.

  “From the physical report, Castiel should be healthy enough to start trying to trigger his memories.”

  “Trigger? But you said that was a bad thing.”

  “Potentially a bad thing, but I assume he also had good memories. If James talked about his favorite activities, or books or movies…” Tessa left it an open question.

  But Dean was already shaking his head, “I don’t know, we never really talked about it.”

  “Do you have any idea what triggers he might have?” Tessa frowned at Dean’s helpless shrug, “Fine, where was your first date? That must have been at least partially pleasurable.”

“At the cafe, we met there.”

“Go there, together, call me if anything happens.” Tessa flipped the folder shut, and that was it.

 

  “Not today,” Castiel said softly when they finally made it back to the apartment.”

  “Not today,” Dean agreed. “Not tomorrow either, if you don’t want to. Whenever you’re ready. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Come here, it’s gonna be fine.”

 


	3. Next Up

They fill up the composition notebook pretty quickly. If Dean had to guess he would say there were less and less highlighted parts, bits that Cas forgot, but he didn’t want to jinx anything. Dean feels a bit nostalgic when he fills the last page in. About half way through Cas had started writing his own notes in the margins, little bits that Dean left out or wasn’t there for. They were sloppy notes, but they were still an amazing improvement.

A month ago, Cas couldn’t write.

A month ago, some pages were more highlighted than not.

A month ago, Cas didn’t go outside.

They went together to the store to pick up groceries for the week and get another book. Instantly Dean headed for the black and white composition notebooks.

“But Dean.” Castiel called from behind him. Dean turned and laughed. Cas was holding up a notebook with a kitten on the cover. A little speech bubble proclaimed ‘Hang in there!’.

“Really Cas?”

Cas stuck out his bottom lip in a pout.

“Fine, throw it in the cart.”

They also grabbed a new pack of black pens, a single highlighter, and one of the clicky multicolour pens Castiel couldn’t put down after he had picked it up. The lady who was their cashier gave them weird looks for being two grown men buying a kitten notebook, but it was worth it when Cas linked his hand in his when they walked out of the store.

 

‖

 

  “Dean, let’s have a picnic.” Castiel said.

  “Cas, I’m about to go to work.” Dean paused in shrugging on his jacket.

  “So? You said yourself you can work whenever you choose to.”

  “Yeah, but it’s like midnight. Oh don’t give me that look, I have a little brother, I’m immune to puppy dog pouts.”

 

  “Jesus Cas, stop hogging the blanket.” Dean shoved his shoulder. “The grass is damp, move it.” Castiel obligingly shifted over and opened the bag they had brought, pulling out food. They ate pretty silently, glancing around at the dark park and listening to the loud sounds of insect noise. They passed back and forth their drink. That had been the one thing that had delayed them.

  “Dean, you don’t drink beer at picnics.” Castiel said it like the very notion offended him.

  “Dude, I’ve got alcohol, water, about an inch of orange juice— scratch that, fucking hell Cas, when you finish something have the decency to throw it out,” Cas made an unapologetic noise, “and maybe one of those weird freezer-lemonade things.”

  “Lemonade sounds like it would be at a picnic.”

  “Dunno if I have anything to put it in though.”

  “What about this?” Castiel holds up a mason jar that was currently holding cast off pens and pencils.

  Dean laughed, “Do you want to be hipster as fuck?”

  “I do not understand that sentence.” Cas frowned.

  “Yeah, sure, lets use it.”

  So it was really like one am and they were sitting on a blanket in the park in the dark passing back a mason jar full of lemonade.

  Dean snorted and took a drink, “We just need an acoustic guitar and it would be a teen movie moment.”

  “What was that?” Cas gripped his arm.

  “Nuh uh, I said teen movie, not horror movie. ”

  “No, the light. There it is again!”

  “The fireflies?”

  “Oh, they’re alive?” Castiel leaned forward and even by the shallow light of the dim streetlight Dean could see the look on his face. It was the patented Cas-is-curious look, and there was no getting between him and what he wanted.

  “Yeah, come on.” Dean stood and helped Castiel to his feet but kept their hands linked and lead him towards the trees. “When we were kids Sam and I used to catch them.”

  Castiel dropped his hand to trail behind an intermittently flashing blip. Eventually, he calmly reached out his hand and scooped it up.

“Look, Dean, look.” Cas scrambled towards him, the bioluminescence showing the smile on his face.

“Nice catch Cas.”

Castiel practically beamed, “What do we do with them now?”

“Uh, I don’t know. Collect them? Sam and me used to put them in jars when we went camping to make like a little lantern.”

“I told you using a jar was a good idea.”

Dean was about to protest but Cas was already off back towards their stuff with a firefly clutched delicately in his hand.

 

It was wonderful and amazing and Dean felt constantly on the edge of laughing as they both ran around the park catching fireflies and putting them in the jar until Dean realized they didn’t have any way to poke air holes. Cas insisted they let them all go, which was kind of amazing within itself when they opened the top and they all went flying out.

The running around left them tired and they collapsed back on the blanket and stared up at the stars. Dean was comforted by the warm feeling of Cas pressed next to him, shoulders and legs.

“Do you need to go to work?” Cas asked softly.

“I think I can take one night off.” Dean turned to look at him. “Why?”

Castiel propped himself up on his elbow “Can we make out now?”

Dean laughed, “Yeah, Cas.” And Cas was leaning over him and kissing him gently and then not so gently and it tasted slightly of lemonade and _Cas_ and everything was dark and quiet and perfect.

 

 

‖

 

  Dean felt weird about going to the coffee shop again.

  Jimmy did have his blood soak into the cement some thirty feet away from it.

  But he ignored it as he pulled Castiel into the busy shop, bumping into a few people. Cas looked around, eyes wide.

  “Are you sure you two— _we_ met here? It does not seem like a place you would frequent,” Castiel said.

  Dean laughed, “Yeah, it’s not really my scene. Let’s get drinks and we can go through it.”

  They ordered, black coffee for Dean, tea for Cas. The barista got into a long conversation with Cas about different kinds of tea and Cas complimented her tattoo.

  “ _That_ was a hipster, by the way.” Dean pointed out as they sat down at the table, “and I didn’t know you liked tattoos. Don’t give me that look, that didn’t count.”

  “I did not know I liked them either. I like the concept of them.” Castiel curled his hands around him mug reverently.

  “Permanence…” Dean muttered, then cleared his throat. “I have a tattoo.”

  “Dean Winchester, I do not like this ban on sexual acts, I should know this by now.”

  “It’s been a little over a month, we have plenty of time. Now, anything look familiar?”

  Castiel glanced around, “No, not really. How did... we meet?”

  “I only went here to get Sam his fucking medium half-caf no-foam non-fat double vanilla soy latte or whatever crap he drinks. You were sitting over there,” Dean pointed to a currently filled corner table, “looking so out of place in your suit. But you were reading a book and drinking black coffee so I decided to go talk to you. We talked about books a bit, and then just general stuff. We exchanged numbers and Sam got mad when I showed up with cold drinks.” Dean shrugged. “Sorry it’s not more magical.”

  “That’s what drew you to him, a book and coffee? Dean, two thirds of the people in here are both a book and coffee.”

  “Well, that and you were hot like burning.” Dean smirked at Cas’s blush.

  Castiel snorted and shook his head. “I feel like you’re telling me a story about a different person. It does not sound like me at all. I guess it lends to the nature vs nurture argument.”

  “I dunno, it kind of seems that way to me too. I didn’t know Jimmy too well but you two are completely different. Was this a total waste of time?”

  “No, they have good tea.” Castiel drank.

  They sat there for a bit, finishing their drinks and talking. Dean couldn’t help comparing it to the last time he had done this.

There was no comparison.

 

‖

 

  Cas got frustrated at writing a lot, so after a session Tessa sent him back to the apartment with a folder of sturdy paper. It really helped his coordination, so his drawings quickly progressed from scribbles to shapes to good pictures but they were still all in crayon.

  Dean got in the habit of sticking them on the fridge but Cas made so many then he couldn’t fit them all, but he didn’t want to throw them away.

  Slowly, slowly, the apartment got covered in certified Cas-originals and Dean loved it.

  It was like proof of how much better Cas was getting.

 

‖

 

  It became very clear which are Bad Days and Good Days and which are just Days. Dean hated every single Bad Day because he felt so fucking useless. Dean treasured every Good Day because it could be the last. They read and watched TV and made food and occasionally went to the park on Days.

On Good Days they went out.  
On Bad Days they barely moved.

 

‖

 

“Hey, my little brother is playing in a concert,” Dean hung up his coat by the door and stooped to kiss Castiel where he sat on the couch. “Wanna go with me?”

  Castiel set down his book, “I did not know Sam played an instrument.” Dean moved to grab a beer out of the refrigerator.

  “Oh, no, Kevin.”

  “Then I did not know you had another sibling.”

  “Crap, sorry, it’s the Big Brothers Big Sisters program. Kids get matched up to adult mentors in the community and you do normal stuff like play games or do homework. It give them a role model and a good example or something. Kevin’s the third Little I have had.”

  “Who were the others?” Castiel craned his neck to look around at Dean.

  “Krissy was first, I was a total novice and she got me for it. But she was good kid, we worked it out eventually. She had gotten into some fights at school when she was 11 so her parents got her in the program. By the time she was 15 she was a straight A student and she decided she didn’t need me anymore.” Dean said it with a smile on his face. “The next one only lasted a month, Lilith.” Dean shuddered, “She was ten and a psychopath. She tormented the other kids in her class but she was finally institutionalized when she killed and mutilated her dog.”

  “Dean…” Castiel felt a bit sick.

  “I almost quit then, but they gave me a file on Kevin and he seemed like a good kid. Super smart, driven, plays cello. His mother wanted him in the program to put it on his c _ollege applications_.” Dean laughed, “We’ve been hanging out for the past year and a half and Kevin has really chilled out.”

  “You must not have seen him recently, I am sorry.” Castiel tucked his legs underneath himself, he was getting cold.

  “Stop it, it’s fine. So, concert?” Dean quirked an eyebrow.

  Castiel smiled, imaging little kids with bulky instruments playing ‘row, row, row your boat’.

  “Yes l will go.”

 

  It was not little kids playing ‘row, row, row your boat’.

  It was a huge concert hall filled with people and Castiel could now understand why Dean had come downstairs wearing a tie.

  “How old is Kevin?” Castiel clutched Dean’s sleeve, nervously eyeing the crowds of people. Lots of other people still made him a bit nauseous.

  “He’s about to turn 18. How old did you think he was?”

  “Not 18. I had imagined we would be sitting in middle school bleachers.” Castiel watched as Dean handed their tickets to a man in a red uniform.

  “Not quite, Kevin’s ensemble is amazing. They’re scheduled to play in Carnegie Hall later this year.” Dean’s chest puffed up pride.

“Is it going to be loud?” Castiel asked softly. That’s what he was most worried about. He did not want to ruin this for Dean, especially when it was so important.”

“They play classical music, so hopefully not too loud. But, if you have a problem, you tell me and I will get you out of there. Promise me Cas, you’re more important than one concert.”

“Okay.” Castiel said weakly. Internally he resolved to make it through. He could do this.

 

He need not have worried.

The concert was _amazing_.

The five player’s fit beautifully together, each piece of music weaving and dancing with the others. Castiel admired the concentration on their faces and their bravery to play in front of so many people. Dean dragged him backstage afterwards to introduce them.

Kevin and Dean embraced when they saw each other.

“Hey! Nice job dude!” Dean ruffled his hair, “You almost converted me.”

Kevin laughed, “As if I could get you out of the 70’s, but thanks.”

“I think you did convert Cas. Kevin, meet Castiel, my boyfriend.” Dean draw him forward. Castiel tried not to blush at the word ‘boyfriend’. It sounded both trivial and important. He gave Kevin an awkward wave.

“Hello. I was quite impressed, considering your age.”

Dean knocked into his shoulder. “Be nice.”

Castiel shot him a glare. “I just mean that it is a complex time in life, it is impressive that you have the concentration and time to make such beautiful music. You have quite a gift.”

“Thanks? I guess?” Kevin smiled at him.

Dean muttered “Counts.” under his breath and Castiel could not resist knocking into his shoulder himself.

 

‖

 

  The next day Dean brought Castiel to the library, but instead of instantly getting lost in the stacks, he pulled Cas over to the music section.

  “I think the problem is you don’t like my music, which is fine, but it shouldn’t ruin all music for you. Go crazy, pick anything that looks interesting.” Dean gave the other man a push on his lower back and he was off.

  They go home with armfuls of CD’s and spend the long afternoon listening to hours and hours of music. They sit on the floor, Cas wrapped up in blankets and pillows with pads of paper and crayons.

  It’s peaceful.

  Dean doesn’t particularly like much of the music, but sometimes Cas will hear a new song and get this _look_ on his face. His eyes widen and his mouth drops open and it’s so worth it.

  Even though every time it happens Dean has to stand up and go write down the name of the song.

 

‖

 

Sam’s at their— his apartment one afternoon, Dean thinks he dropped by because he’s lonely, when he noticed Castiel writing. It was a struggle, it has always been a struggle. Cas was a lot better than he used to be, but it is still pretty rough. Sam stood there, watching him, for a long time.

“What, Sam? Why are you hovering?” Castiel finally looked up at him.

“Dude, maybe you’re left-handed.” Sam said.

Cas shifted the pencil into his left hand and wrote ‘Hello Sam’. It was so much better that Dean almost dropped the cup he was holding.

“Holy shit Cas, that’s amazing,” Dean gasped.

Castiel whipped around to face him. “Why did you not tell me this was a possibility?”

“I didn’t even think about it.” He tried not to feel too guilty.

Cas kept glaring at him.

“Sorry Cas, my bad.” Dean shifted uncomfortably. Sam was laughing, jerk.

Castiel stood up from the table and purposefully walked over to the refrigerator. He uncapped the dry erase marker and added a tally on the whiteboard, with his left hand.

“What is this?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow at the board. It currently read both their name, Cas with three marks and Dean with two. Dean gestured for Castiel to explain, a grin on his face.

“It is a competition. If I get five points before Dean does, I win.”

“How do you get points?”

“If Dean messes up, I get a point.”

“And if Cas talks before he thinks, I get a point,” Dean interjected.

“But Dean messes up far more than I offend people, so I have an advantage here.” Castiel looked at the three tallies. “I’m so close he can almost taste it.”

“You’re so close, _you_ can almost taste it,” Sam corrected.

Cas blinked at him. “No, I was correct.”

Dean put a hand over his mouth to smother his laughter.

 

‖

 

  The tallies had started because he was frustrated.

Sexually, that is.

They had been kissing for a week and a half, but everytime it went to something more than kissing, Dean pulled back. Castiel was frustrated.

“Why?” he gasped into Dean’s mouth as once again the other man stopped his wandering hands.

“I just… I feel like I’m taking advantage of you.” Dean whispered.

“You are not, I want this.” Castiel moved back in to kiss him. “I want you.”

Dean groaned, “Give us more time, get to know each other better.”

“You know all there is to know about me.” Castiel tipped his head.

“Stop, stop saying stuff like that. I makes me feel so fucking guilty.” Dean pulled back even more.

Castiel snorted, “Why should I be delicate? It is the truth. I am damaged, it is not a secret. You are not any better, always saying ‘have you seen this or that’. Obviously not.”

“Let’s play a game.” Dean’s eyes glimmered, “If you say something insensitive five different times, I win. If I mess up five times, you win.”

“What are the prizes?” Castiel shifted and Dean gritted his teeth.

“You win, we do what you want. I win, we still do what you want but we wait three weeks from the day I win. Like the groundhog.”

“I think even to normal people that would not make sense.”

“Counts!” Dean crooned.

“Does not!” Cas swatted his arm, “We did not say go.”

“You have to say go now?” Dean teased, mouth fitting to Cas neck and slowly moving up.

“Yes, you always say go.” Castiel’s breath hitched when Dean sucked slightly at his jawline. “Anything I want?”

Dean paused. “Not that, think simpler.”

“Oh, that.”

“Ready?” Dean asked, mouth hovering an inch above Castiel’s.

“Go.” Cas murmured before closing the distance quickly and pushing their mouths together.

 

‖

 

  Dean rushed down stairs when he smelled the smoke, heart pounding in his chest.

  _Not again not again notagainnotagainnotagain._

“Cas!” he yelled. No response.

  “Cas!” Dean sprinted into the kitchen.

  “It is very pretty, is it not?” Castiel didn’t take his eyes off the pan of burning food on the stove.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Dean yelled, grabbing a pot holder and dumping it in the stove and turning on the water. Steam billowed from the pan as the fire went out and it cooled down.

  “Did you want to set the house on fire!” Dean whipped around to face Cas. Castiel was frozen, staring at him with unblinking eyes. “Fucking hell Cas, what were you thinking?”

  “I...I…” Castiel was shaking, tearing up.

  “Fuck.” Dean strode over to him, wrapping his arms around the other man, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Cas. I didn’t mean to yell, you just scared me. I smelled smoke and I got really worried.” Dean ran his hands up and down his back.

  “I’m sorry Dean,” Castiel breathed into his shoulder.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

  They stood like that for awhile.

 

  “Hey, Sammy, think you could come by tonight?”

  “Uh, sure, what for?”

  “I’m thinking a summer 1996 reenactment.”

  Sam laughed, “Want me to pick up stuff and meet you there?”

  “Yeah, midnight?”

  “Deal.”

 

  “Dean, where are you taking me?”

  “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise,” Dean smiled. They were in the Impala and Cas was sitting next to him, pouting. “Stop that, you’ll like it, I promise.”

  “Okay Dean.” Castiel paused. “I trust you.”

  “...Thanks Cas.”

  “Unless this is a ploy to murder me and dump my body.”

  “Okay, no more murder-mystery books for you.”

 

  They pulled off the road and Cas looked surprised when they drove on the grass into the field. Sam stood there, grinning, with a big milk crate next to him. They got out of the car.

“Sam! I did not know you would be here.” Castiel awkwardly accepted a hug. “What is in the box?”

  “You’ll see.” Dean lit a match.

 

 

  He _loved_ them.

  They were so loud and bright, but it was _worth it_.

  He was _amazed_.

  There were small ground ones that just popped. These were ones that shot high in the air and exploded. There were ones that did bursts of light. There were ones that sat in the grass and lit off fountains of sparks. There were ones that you could hold in your hand.

  Castiel liked those.

Dean liked them less. 

 

 

  Jesus, it was nice to see Cas happy.

  Like, really, truly, big-grin happy.

  The fireworks were a big hit. Sam and he shared a nostalgic look after they set off the first ones. Every time one was loud Castiel would jump but his eyes never left the multicoloured sparks. Cas lit up himself when they pulled out the sparklers. Dean couldn’t help but watch how open his face was when he watch the sparkler burning in his grip, how childlike he was in his amazement.

  “It’s so beautiful,” Castiel said.

  “Yeah.” But Dean wasn’t thinking about the sparkler, he was thinking about how Cas’s face was lit up with sparks and how ethereal he looked, how goddamn beautiful. Like something from another world, ancient and powerful.

  Until Cas moved it too close to his face and Dean might have freaked out.

Just a little.

He spent the rest of the night with Castiel tucked under his arm and out of harm’s way. Which might be a bit overprotective but, hey, he didn’t hear Cas complaining.

 

‖

 

  He had bad days were sleep evaded him for hours and hours and hours.

  Nights were exhausting.

  It got dark and he knew he _wanted_ to sleep, he should sleep, but he _could not_.

  He felt so guilty as Dean looked more and more tired and the circles under his eyes got darker and darker and even as he laughed it off with green eyes and freckles Castiel _knew_ how much it hurts him.

  He would do anything to stop hurting Dean.

  Because he could not stand it when Dean looked at him when he thinks he is not paying attention and the pity just leaks out of his eyes and frown.

  Because he could not stand it when Dean asked how many hours he slept last night and he _lies._

  Because Dean got worried and said ‘Three hours isn’t enough Cas.’

  Because it killed Castiel how worried Dean was with a lie, and what would he do if he knew the truth, if he knew that Castiel does not sleep at all.

  But mostly he just hurt.

  The ache deep in his bones that blankets and sweaters and tea cannot make better.

  He found some peace in Dean’s arms but it was not _enough_.

  It did not stop his head from hurting and his eyes from staying open and his bones from aching and his heart from splitting.

  Because he could not sleep.

  He could not sleep he could not sleep he could not sleep as much as he tried and hoped and prayed it was not _enough_ and it was killing him.

 

He was so tired.

 

He wanted was for it to stop. He wanted it to be over. He wanted to pass out and never wake up if it meant that he could finally sleep.

All he wanted was sleep.

All he needed was sleep.

 

It never came.

 

‖

 

  Dean brought Cas to a farmers market and told him to buy whatever he wanted.

  They wandered around and Cas just… talked to people.

  It constantly amazed Dean how well Castiel interacted with people even though he didn’t have a lot of experiences to relate to them. Cas seemed to just get it. They spent a long time there, Castiel talking to people about natural pesticides and organic soil treatments and how the behaviour of goats effects the cheese they produce.

Castiel ended up with a lot of free samples.

They bought a very red apple Cas wanted just because of it’s colour.

They bought a scary looking bunch of kale because neither Cas nor Dean had heard of it before.

Dean was about to call it a day when Castiel spotted the honey stand. They spent an hour there, Cas talked animatedly with the beekeeper about many different aspects of bee care and behavior. Dean made a bee-haviour joke that the owner had obviously heard a few too many times.

They ended up with three jars of wildflower honey and it was a bit extravagant but Cas loved it.

Dean had got to admit, later when they were eating it with sourdough bread, it was pretty fucking good.

 

  They spent the whole next day baking with honey.

  Pumpkin honey bread, almond and honey cookies, and Dean’s personal favorite, blackberry pie with natural honey as sweetener.

The bread took forever to rise and Castiel ended up with sticky dough coating his fingers, but it smelled really good and they end up giving one of the loaves to their next door neighbor. She still sniffed at them, but they almost got a smile.

The cookies were really simple and really yummy. Castiel wielded a wooden spoon he kept using to smack Dean’s hands away from the bowl of raw cookie dough. Dean took a box to work tomorrow and everyone wanted to meet the mysterious Cas.

The pie was the best.

It was both weird and delicious and they ended up eating nearly all of it that night. Dean cut off a piece and stuck it in the fridge for Cas to bring to Tessa tomorrow for their appointment. They ended up curling up on the couch with the tin balanced between them and two forks while they marathoned Star Wars. Dean and Castiel fell asleep before the Ewoks, happy and full and just a little sick of blackberries.

 

‖

 

  Dean took Castiel fishing on a warm Saturday.

  It seemed like a good idea at the time. Cas had never really seen a lot of water and fishing was relaxing. Besides, Dean secretly really liked it.

  Castiel did not.

  Well, he did at the beginning, but then he finally realized that you actually _catch fish_ when Dean pulled out a wriggling Blue Gill.

  Then he didn’t like it so much.

  It also could have been the hook sticking out of the fish’s mouth.

  But it was still nice, sitting on a dock with Cas. They had brought books and food and it was sunny outside. It was nice. Really nice.

 

‖

 

  “This is such a stupid idea.”

  “It is understandable that you would try and belittle the concept because of your high probability of failure.”

  “Excuse you? ‘Failure’ isn’t in the Winchester vocabulary. It’s even part of our name, _Win_ chester.”

  “Either way, you are going to fail Dean _Lose_ chester.”

  “Oh you are so on.”

 

  “I asked for vertically cut sandwiches, these are cut diagonally.” Castiel smirked up at him.

  “Christ Cas, the crusts are cut off so it doesn’t really matter. What are you doing— No. No way, that does not count—” Dean threw up his arms.

  “That counts.”

  “Fine, fuck, they taste better diagonally anyway.” he sat petulantly while Castiel moved to write up the first tally.

  “Pouting is not attractive Dean, no one likes a sore loser.”

  “Oh, if I lose you will definitely like—” and then Cas was kissing him, which wasn’t the intended effect but still perfectly fine with him.

 

  “Oh my god, those were all the rage in high school, remember?” Dean nodded to the screen. Cas just looked at him in amusement.

  “Shit.” Dean swore.

  “Counts— Dean! Get off me!” Castiel tried to wriggle his way off the couch but Dean had no intention of letting go.

  “Do you really have to go write it up right now?”

  “If I do not do it now I might forget about it later.” Castiel broke free. Dean grimaced at the words. “There, two me, zero you. Catch up Winchester. What? Why are you smiling?”

  “That counts.” Dean crossed his arms.

  “No it does not, I was jesting.”          Castiel frowned.

  “Hurtful, painful jesting.” Dean dashed across the room and snagged the dry erase marker, adding his own decisive line.

 

  “Hey, Donna, how are you? This is Cas. Cas, Donna Hanscum. Out jogging, huh?” Dean paused on the sidewalk to greet her. Castiel put a possessive arm around his waist and Dean tried to bite back a smile.

  “Yes, after my husband… well, I decided to get back into shape.” The blonde moved some hair out of her face and gave a pretty smile.

  “Probably wise.” Castiel said, eyes darting to the other side of the street. Donna looked shocked.

  “ _Cas_.” Dean poked him. Castiel looked up and realized his mistake.

  “Considering the higher risk of heart disease and… shit.” Cas swore for the first time.

  “Oh you are so losing it is not even funny.” Dean laughed.

 

  “De— _Dean_...” Cas was curled up on the ground.

  “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Come here, Cas, I’m so fucking sorry. I should have called when you didn’t check in, but I was in the middle of work. I’m so sorry, please forgive me.” Dean was beside him, arms around him.

  “—I’m _scared_.” his breath was hitching, coming fast.

  “Fuck, it’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you. It’s okay.” Dean whispered into the other man’s hair. They were quiet for a long time.

  “...Dean?” Castiel said softly.

  “Yeah Cas?” Dean tightened his grip.

  “...counts.”

  Dean gave a watery laugh, “Yeah, yeah it does.”

 

  “Hey, I’m back.”

  “In the kitchen, waiting.”

  “Jeez, sorry, this lady had like a million coupons and she had a hard time reading them so I basically escorted her through the grocery store for every item. I bet she does it every week, snares some unsuspecting samaritan and makes them do her shopping.” Dean set the bags on the counter.

  “No, she probably only picks the pretty ones.” Castiel gave him a grin and then went back to stirring the vegetables on the stove.

“Anyway, it was amazing I managed to get any of my shopping done. She also tried to set me up with her granddaughter.”

“...and you said?”

“That I was in a happy committed relationship with another man. I have never seen someone in orthopedic shoes run that fast. I should have opened with that fact, who knows, breathing my air could have given her cooties or something.” Dean started putting stuff away.

“Do not put the salmon in the fridge, it will be used tonight.” Castiel opened a cupboard to look for something, stepping up on his tiptoes to reach and exposing a line of skin on his lower back. Dean considered running his hand along it. Or maybe his tongue. Right, food.

  Dean freezes, hand in the bag. “I… I didn’t get it.”

  “How am I supposed to make baked lemon salmon if we do not have salmon?” Castiel kept digging through the cabinet.

  “Cas.”

  He stepped back down, spice jar held in his hand. He set it down on the counter, wide eyes on Dean.

  “You did not get it.”

  “Nope.” Dean popped the last syllable.

  Cas turned off the burner.

  “You are not that hungry, right?”

  “I could wait a bit.”

  “Finally,” Castiel breathed out, practically leaping into Dean arms, slamming their lips together. His kiss was demanding, insistent.

  “Bedroom, come on, bedroom,” Dean practically begged.

  “No. Right here,” Castiel panted, hot and warm against his neck. Dean groaned, but his arms were already pushing Cas back until his legs hit the counter.

  “Here. Now.” Dean’s hand slipped down, palming Cas.

  “Yes, please, oh please Dean. Enough… _waiting._ ” Castiel gasped as Dean sunk to his knees in front of him. Dean could see the flush high on Cas’s cheeks and how white his knuckles were from where they gripped the countertop.

  “Ready?” Dean asked with a smirk, carefully unzipping Cas’s jeans and slowly slowly pulling his cock out.

  “ _Yes._ ” Cas repeated, wiggling his hips, demanding attention.

  “Go.” Dean sunk down, fast and sharp. Castiel made a sound like he wanted to reprimand him for making an awful joke but it was soon cut off with a loud moan. Dean knew this wasn’t going to last long, Cas was basically a virgin. So Dean was going to make this as good as possible.

  He pulled back, but was quick to start lapping at the head, getting his first real taste of Castiel. It was always a bit gross, anyone who told you differently was fucking lying. It tasted like skin and salt and sweat and it was not pleasant but you do it anyway because holy shit Dean was getting off on the _noises_ Cas was making above him. It was a whole chorus of sharp moans and stuttering gasps and things that sounded like words but come out so unintelligible because of pleasure.

That’s why you do it.

Dean’s hands were digging into Cas’s hips, holding him back because he was too inexperienced to know differently. He alternated between hot pressure and long striping licks to let Cas get his breath back. Dean felt Castiel’s knees shaking and he just sucked harder. Cas felt so tense so Dean looked up. His face was stained pink and his head was thrown back in ecstasy. It’s hot, but it’s not what he wanted. He wanted Cas to _know_.

Dean pulled off, “Cas, open your eyes.” His voice came out all deep and scratchy. Castiel looked down at him, blue eyes wide and pupils blown. Dean took him back into his mouth.

“Oh god, Dean,” Cas finally succeeded at making words, “Do you have any idea how you _look_ —” His breath hitched.

“ _Dean_.” Castiel’s voice sounded broken, _wrecked_. Dean let out a moan, the vibration low in his throat. Apparently that was the final straw, Cas gave one last noise before coming down Dean’s throat. He tried not to gag, swallowing it down because that’s what you do when you… like someone. Cas’s knees started to buckle as he came off his orgasm high. Dean stood, wrapping his arms around the other man to give him some balance. Castiel’s eyes were closed again as he rested his head on Dean’s shoulder.

“Is it always like that?” Cas murmured.

“I don’t know, how was it like?” Totally not fishing for compliments, totally not.

“ _Amazing_ ,” Castiel sighed happily. “Oh! You, I am so sorry, I should—”

“Nah, it’s okay.” Dean rubbed Cas’s back. “You won, it was all about you.”

“Some time though?”

“Even next time, if you wanted. But no pressure.”

Cas paused. “Is it gross?”

“Well, lemme tell you one thing,” Dean laughed, “There are two kinds of people in the world, those who don’t like the taste of come, and _liars_.”

“I am so sorry, I should have given you warning…” Cas sounded genuinely apologetic.

“Hey, stop that. I wouldn’t do anything I didn’t want to. We good?”

“Good, Dean.”

They stood silently for a couple minutes.

“I cannot believe you said ‘go’.” Castiel’s voice was as sharp and accusatory as it was exhausted.

Dean tried to laugh softly enough as to not bounce Cas’s head with his shoulder.

 

‖

 

One time Dean had a lot of work and couldn’t take Cas to his doctors appointment so Sam volunteered. Cas called him after the appointment was over and asked Dean to come pick him up because Sam _would not stop flirting with Miss Jessica Moore_.

Dean got yelled at a bit for ditching work when he said he would stay, but it was worth it to see Cas’s unhappy pout and Sam’s dopey love struck puppy look.

They saw a lot more of Miss Jessica, _Jess_ she corrected Cas for the millionth time, Moore. Dean was just happy he had something to tease Sam with so he couldn’t angrily sigh at them when they make out on the couch.

 

‖

 

  Kevin and Dean went to a music store as one of their prearranged mentor/mentee things. Dean decided to break the rules and brought Cas along. Besides, Kevin teased him a lot and that would probably go down once the teenager actually knew Cas. There was also the added benefit of expanding Castiel’s social circle as well as the fact that Kevin knew a lot more about music than Dean did.

  They nodded to the guy behind the desk before going to the back. Cas gripped his hand, less hard than when he had just started going outside, but still there. Still needed.

  Castiel’s face lit up in a familiar combination of amazement and excitement. Dean had started counting them. The back of the old music store was packed with instruments. Unlike stuffy new stores that make you pay for anything before you touch it, this one was different. You’re encouraged to pick stuff up, try it out. Make music.

  Dean and Kevin had been coming here for years for just that reason.

  If was fun when other people showed up too, it was like a free concert. Teenagers and mothers with kids and random people hung around in the afternoons to listen to music and maybe try their hand at a tambourine if someone invited them to.

  Today there were a lot of gawkers and not a lot of people playing, so Kevin shot Dean a sneaky look.

  “Alright Cas, what looks interesting?” Dean pulled the other man forward.

  “Oh no,” Castiel looked a bit freaked out, “I can’t play anything.”

  “That’s why we brought Kevin.” Kevin made a noise of protest. “To play stuff for us.” Dean grinned.

  “Okay.” Cas pointed to a tuba and Kevin groaned.

 

  They tried a bunch of instruments, Cas trying to narrow down what he liked the most. Dean watched as Castiel got engrossed in the piano, but his fingers tripped over themselves too much to play it himself. Kevin sat on the bench next to him and played some basic scales.

  “It’s beautiful,” Cas whispered as his eyes stayed glued to Kevin’s moving fingers.

  “Want to hear a real song?” Kevin asked.

  Castiel nodded emphatically.

  “Ah, but the problem is I don’t know any stand alone piano songs, I only know accompaniments.” Kevin raised an eyebrow at Dean.

  “You’re a dirty liar,” Dean shot back, but Cas was already giving him an adorable pouting look, and honestly he would never be able to resist Cas.

  “Fine, fine,” he grumbled as he pulled an acoustic guitar off the wall. He tuned it quickly, fingers dancing over the strings. When he looked up Cas’s eyes were wide and a smile was playing on his lips.

“I did not know you knew how to play an instrument.” Castiel leaned towards him.

“Only a few songs.” Dean recalled the memory, “I got thrown in a home for troubled boys when I was like 14. I was skipping a lot of school at that point so the state thought it would be good for me to have a ‘stable home environment’. One of the things that was supposed to make you a better citizen was learning how to play music. After I got out I didn’t really touch a guitar until this little brat came along with his cello.”

“Beatles song?” Kevin drummed his hand on the piano, letting out the beginning of a tune.

Dean focused on the strings, listening to the piano part and reflexively playing along. When he glanced up, Cas was beaming at him and he missed a note. Kevin laughed at him, but that was normal. Dean didn’t play very often in front of people, certainly not a whole store of people, but it didn’t feel like that today. It felt like he was just playing for Cas.

“Come on, you know you want to.” Kevin caught his eye.

Dean chuckled slightly, he had been mouthing along to the words the whole time. “Only if you back me up,” he challenged.

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

They both came in on the chorus, soft at first but gaining confidence. Dean stared at the guitar in his hands in an effort to not feel self conscious. As they neared the end, he decrescendoed and let Kevin finish it with a soft little trill. There was dead silence for a second until the clapping started. He hadn’t even noticed everyone in the store stop to watch them, but now it was evident. Dean blushed and quickly hung up the instrument, he hated all the attention. He looked up. Except that. The look on Cas’s face that was full to brimming with adoration and something like pride.

That was okay.

 

‖

 

  Dean said he was going to go visit Sam for the weekend.

  He had an appointment with Tessa and it was too late to change it so he decided to stay home and take a taxi to the appointment. Dean was worried about leaving him on his own for two and a half days but Castiel just found the concern cute.

  He will be fine.

  “It’s been two months, nothing is going to change just because you are not here,” Castiel reassured Dean at the front door.

  “Call me, every night. Text me every two hours about what you’ve done so we can double check if you forget anything. Food is in the refrigerator and the freezer, numbers on the counter—.”

  “—and emergency numbers on the counter and your number is number one on speed dial on my phone and Sam is number two. Call Bobby if I need immediate help. Yes. I know.” Castiel smiled at the other man.

  Dean let out a breath, “I know you know, I’m just a worrier.” Dean leaned in and kissed him softly. “You’re gonna be okay?”

  “I will be fine. Leave.” Castiel pushed him towards the door.

  “Okay, okay.” Dean stole another kiss, “Bye Cas.”

  “Goodbye Dean.” Castiel ducked his head to hide his grin and he closed the door.

  He would be fine.

 

  He was _not_

                        fine.

            Everything hurt like dying

his head his bones his eyes his throat his lungs his heart his stomach his head _god his head_

  He was so cold, shivering until his heart beat in time with the tremors running up and down and up and down his body.

  He was so hot, like a fire raging inside him until he could not think straight anymore because the heat had muddled his head.

 

  Everything _hurt_

and he _knew_ there was somehow he could get help

                                                                                                                        Someone?

  But it was so far away and he was in so much pain and it was just

easier

  to not do anything at all

just lay here.

 

give up

 

 

  “Cas hasn’t texted me in four hours.” Dean paced back and forth in Sam’s living room.

Sam sighed, “Go home then.”

“But I said I would spend time with you.” Dean shot him a conflicted look.

“You were going to go home tomorrow afternoon anyway, it’s only half a day less.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Go, make sure he’s alright.”

“You’re the best.” Dean scrambled to grab his keys and stuff.

“Oh, I know.” Sam picked up the remote but Dean was already dashing out the door.

 

“Cas?” Dean called as he opened the front door, “Cas are you okay?”

There was no response.

Dean’s heart was beating fast, he didn’t want another repeat of Castiel’s disappearing act last time. But there wasn’t anything, he wasn’t keeping any secrets from Cas.

Unless…

Dean stomach dropped. What if Cas remembered? What is Cas wasn’t Cas anymore but Jimmy, and he decided to go wherever home was.

Cas wasn’t in the living room/kitchen/dining room area, he wasn’t in his old bedroom or bathroom or library.

Oh god, he probably remembered.

Or he had a brain hemorrhage and died.

He felt like throwing up, please let it be that he remembered. Please, please, anything was better than Cas being dead, he could handle never seeing him again as long as he knew he was okay.

Dean all but ran up the stairs.

“Cas? Castiel, come on, please be okay, just please be okay.” Dean skidded to a stop when he entered the loft space. A lump of blankets was curled on his bed. Not moving.

“Cas, Cas, wake up.” Dean dropped to his knees, flipping Cas so his face was revealed. Castiel twitched, sitting up slightly. Dean sighed in relief. His blue eyes blinked open slowly, like he was sliding out of a dream.

“Gabe,” his voice soft. “Gabe, it hurts.”

“No, it’s me, Dean. What’s wrong? What happened?” Dean put his hands on either side of Cas’s face.

“Dean, I am dying.” Castiel’s eyes were brimming with tears and his voice came out all scratchy.

Wait a second.

Dean took stock of Cas’s bleary expression and his messed up voice and his flushed cheeks. He started laughing.

“I assure you my imminent death is not a laughing matter,” Castiel said grumpily.

“Cas, you’re not dying.” Dean wiped tears from his eyes. “You’ve a got a cold.”

“What?”

“You have the common cold. Lemme guess, fever, coughing, sore throat, constantly tired?”

“Yes,” Cas sniffled pitifully.

Dean patted his leg. “I’ll make you some tea and soup and get some nice drugs to help that fever. Okay?”

“Okay.” Castiel drew the cocoon blankets in tighter. “Thank you for saving me.”

Dean kissed his forehead. “Always.”

 

Cas was sick for two days, but he got better.

Slowly, agonizingly, he complained to Dean.

“Suck it up, part of being human is getting sick. Welcome to the club.” Dean patted his shoulder.

“I want to be in a better club.” Cas grumbled into his cup of tea.                                                      “Who’s Gabe?” Dean asked as he bustled around the kitchen, trying to pretend like he didn’t really care about the answer.        

“How would I know?” Castiel frowned at him.

“You said it, when you were really sick. You thought I was someone named Gabe for a second.”

“I think… I think I knew someone named that. Before.” Cas closed his eyes. “When I was really little. But he’s… gone?” Castiel hissed, “My head hurts.”

“That’s good, that’s really good Cas. You remembered something.”

“How do I know?” his eyes were still shut, “How do I know if it is a real memory or a dream?”

“Your emergency contact, he was your brother. Gabriel Novak.”

Cas’s eyes flew open, “Was. Was my brother.”

“He died.”

“No, no, that’s not true. Dean, I remember him, I _remember_. When we were kids he used to…” Cas groaned and clutched his head. “Something, something and I didn’t like it. No, he can’t be dead.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Cas.” Dean sat down on the couch and pulled Castiel into his arms.

It took an hour before his shoulders stopped shaking.

 

‖

 

  Castiel had come home from a session with Tessa looking exhausted.

  Dean insisted he take a nap, but by the time Cas woke up it was late and they didn’t feel like doing anything so they just brought comforters and pillows out on to the balcony and just laid outside, together.

  “Tessa says I should learn more about you,” Castiel finally mumbled.

  “Does she think learning about my deep dark past will scare you away?” Dean attempted to joke.

  “No, she thinks talking about the past might trigger something in my memory. We do not have to if you do not want to.” Cas put an arm behind his head.

  “No, it’s fine. Ask me anything.”

  “What was your first kiss?”

  “Alright, straight to the dirty stuff. Um, I was 15. I was at that boys’ home, and they had the music program. Anyway, the girl who showed up and taught me to play guitar was named Robin. She was really nice, pretty, great smile. We talked a lot about our dysfunctional families, it was awesome. So, one day she shows up for my lesson, but I wasn’t there. She goes looking for me in my room, pushed open the door, and catches me making out with this guy Ryan.”

  Cas smacked his arm, “You are a dick.”

  “She couldn’t look me in the eye after that. It also made lessons a bit awkward.” Dean grinned.

“Okay, fine, first time you slept with someone?”

Dean whistled, “Jeez, right to it. No ‘what is your favorite childhood memory?’ or ‘who was your least favorite teacher?’. Fine, fine, I did say anything. I was 18, her name was Amanda. She was cute, blonde, we made out at school in storage closets a lot. It was alright.”

“What… what about James? Did you two…” Cas hid his blush in Dean’s shoulder.

“Yeah, we did. Twice.” Dean couldn’t bring himself to look at CAs.

“Was it… well was it… good?”

“Uh, complete honesty? Not really. It wasn’t bad either, it was just sex.”

“How, um. Who…?”

“Seriously? Do you really want to know this?” Dean glanced at him. The determination in his eyes was all he needed to answer the question. “Uh, I always pitched, if that makes sense. I’m versatile, usually, but it seemed like what he wanted. I never really asked, but it seemed like his first time with a guy. Or maybe first time in a long time? Are you asking because you want to…?”

“Eventually. Sooner rather than later, but yes.”

“We’ll talk about it, okay?”

“Okay. What about your parents?” Castiel asked.

Dean stilled.

He knew this moment would come, had dreaded it. No matter what, he was not going to lie to Cas again.

Castiel propped himself up on one arm so they could really look at each other, “What happened?”

Dean cleared his throat so it wasn’t quite so thick with emotion, “I was four years old. Sammy was just a baby, he was so little. One day my mom got really sick. Not cancer sick, but like bad stomach flu sick. That morning I had tried to convince my dad to stay home because she was so feverish and throwing up and tired, but he wouldn’t. We didn’t have a lot of money. He was at work all day and he always worked really late into the evening.” Dean paused to catch his breath.

“I was so hungry, I hadn’t had lunch or dinner and I was sick of waiting for him to come home. All I really knew how made was bottles for Sammy but I couldn’t eat that. I tried to make something on the stove but it was taking a long time. So I left it. A fire started.” Dean closed his eyes. “I was playing when I smelled the smoke and I ran downstairs and I saw the fire. I just… froze. I couldn’t do anything, I couldn’t even move. It just got closer and closer to me until I could feel the heat licking up my legs and finally I ran. I ran, and I got Sammy because that’s what Dad always said, if anything ever happened I needed to protect Sam. Because he was my little brother. I grabbed him out of the crib and I ran outside. I didn’t even think, I just got out. I never warned my mom. I got outside and the house was on fire, smoke billowing out of the windows and the neighbors had called the fire department.” he felt Cas tense in his arms.

“I didn’t know what to do, I tried to tell them my mom was still inside but I was just a kid holding a baby. My dad got home and he realized but instead of telling the firemen he just ran in himself. Neither of them made it out.”

“Dean…” Cas began and then caught himself. Wordlessly he lay his head down on Dean’s chest. The weight felt comforting.

“Sam and I went to live with Dad’s friends, Ellen and Bill. It was okay for awhile but they had their own daughter and they were business owners, money ebbed and flowed. I started working when I was 13. I dropped out of high school at 16 to work full time so I could pay for groceries and gas and save up enough for an apartment when I turned 18 and could get custody over Sam. I was so scared when he was in high school, the public school tuition was already so much and he was so smart. I had no idea how I was going to get him to go to college, and then he got a full ride to Stanford. But me… Jesus, I barely got my GED.” Dean paused for a long minute.

“I fucked up.” His voice was choked. “I fucked up so much and I’m spending the rest of my life making up for it.”

“No, no, you were a child.” Cas’s arm around his middle tightened.

“Still my fault.”

“That does not mean that anyone blames you.”

“I could have finished school, Sam could have grown up with parents.”

“Think about it this way, you saved your little brother’s life.

“Yeah, but—”

  “No.” Cas grabbed his face, forcing Dean to look into the blue depths of his eyes, “You saved his life and mine, and helped countless others. You are a hero, like in the stories.”

  “I like it when you get all authoritative, it’s hot,” Dean tried to deflect.

  “I like you.” Castiel leaned in towards him.

  “I like you too.” Dean hardly dared to breathe.

  Cas kissed him, full of fire and passion and it felt like their first kiss so long ago and every kiss since just wrapped up into one. Dean clung to the him, the air in his lungs coming out as little breathy moans he didn’t have enough time to be ashamed of. Castiel pulled back, his mouth red with kisses and his eyes bright, drinking in the sight of him.

  “You are so beautiful,” Cas murmured.

  “Cas, stop it—” Dean blushed.

  “You are.” Cas touched each body part as he talked, “Beautiful with your mouth and how it smiles at the smallest thing, with your hands and their endless patience helping my clumsy ones, beautiful with your arms and how I feel in them, cherished and protected. But you are the most beautiful with your eyes, and how they look at me like I am a mystery you cannot wait to solve, like I am worth all the trouble.”

  “You are, you are Cas, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” Dean was gasping as he felt Cas’s hands slip under his shirt and pulled it off.

  “And you, me. Not because of my lack of experience, but because I know you. I know you, Dean Winchester. I know you are loyal, kind, protective, thoughtful, _brave_. Stop talking as if the only reason I care is that I do not know any different. I could meet all of humanity stretching back to the dawn of time and I would still think your soul shone the brightest, Dean Winchester.” Cas had kissed a searing line down his torso, pausing at his waistband. Castiel looked up at him through his lashes, “Why do you doubt that still?”

“Please, please Cas…” Dean’s hips were twitching up without his permission, “I— I want...”

  Then Cas’s hands were on his zipper and he was licking his lips and it looked like sin and sex but it wasn’t _enough_.

  “No, more than that.” he couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth.

  “What do you want?” Castiel paused.

  “You.” Dean gasped out as Cas palmed his dick.

  “Say it.”

  Heat surged in his gut at Cas’s tone.

  “I want you to fuck me.” God, he sounded desperate, like he wouldn’t live another minute without something inside him.

  Castiel looked up at him sharply, pupils dilating. It was probably the hottest thing Dean had ever seen, the pure _want_ written across Cas’s face.

  “Upstairs, now.” Cas grabbed him and pulled them both to their feet. Dean was laughing like he was drunk as they stumble-kissed their way upstairs. He had already pulled Cas’s grey sweater over his head, getting it stuck halfway and then kissing the indignant look off his face when Cas was finally freed. When they finally got to their destination Castiel made quick work of pulling off Dean’s pants and boxers and pushing him into the middle of the bed. The authoritative behavior was making his blood pound in his veins.

  “Come on, Cas, come on,” he pleaded. Cas was already reaching into the bedside table and the drawer that used to be locked to pull out the lube. Dean was getting impatient, the sight of Cas between his legs was doing all sorts of nice things to him. Castiel was back, grabbing one of his legs and hitching it up and then his fingers were caressing his thigh and then…

  Cas froze.

  “What’s wrong? Cas, talk to me.” Dean pushed himself up onto his elbows.

  “I… I am scared,” Castiel admitted, looking away.

  “Relax, it’s essentially your first time, it doesn’t have to be perfect. I can talk you through everything, or we don’t have to do it tonight. Or ever, if that’s what you want.”

  “No it is not that. I am scared…” Cas screwed his eyes shut, “Dean, I do not want to wake up in the morning and not know what happened. I do not want to forget this.”

  Dean’s heart decided it really did not have to beat like normal, “Hey, hey, look at me Cas. You are doing so much better, you hardly forget anything anymore.”

  “But what if I do? This is important, I do not want to forget it too.” Cas was gripping his legs in a way he was sure would leave bruises.

  “Okay, worst case scenario: You forget this all happened.” Cas winced but Dean waited until they made eye contact to continue, “And if that happens, I guess we’ll just have to… you know, do it again.”

  Cas had a small smile playing at the edges of his lips. “Oh, the horror.”

  “Alright? Are we good? Because I’ll take care of this myself if you’re―”

  Cas kissed him within an inch of his life before he could talk any more. Dean’s muscles jumped when he felt a wet finger sliding between his legs.

  “Hurry up, less foreplay, more fucking,” Dean panted into Cas’s mouth. He was going to tease him more but his words dissolved into moans as Cas pushed a finger into him.

  It didn’t take long before he was clamoring for moremoremore and shoving his hips down to ride Cas’s fingers.

  “So beautiful Dean,” Castiel pressing his mouth again and again onto the skin of his neck and shoulders. “Open right up for me.”

  “‘M ready.” Dean had been teetering on the edge for too long and if this show didn’t get on the road it would be over way too soon.

  “Okay, okay.” Cas’s voice was coming out low and rough now and Dean couldn’t help but feel a little proud of that. Dean flipped over, on to his stomach.

  “Easier this way,” Dean cut-off Castiel’s noise of protest, “We can do different stuff later, but it’s a lot easier this way.”

  He could feel Cas’s hot breath on the back of his neck and the anticipation was killing him as the other man rolled on a condom and slicked up. The pressure on his hole made him groan but it was nothing compared to the feeling of Cas’s cock slowly, slowly sinking into him. They both took a second to breathe when he had finally bottomed-out. Castiel’s right arm slid under his where it was bracing him to catch on the space between his shoulder and his neck and hold them in place. Dean was struck suddenly by how fucking safe he felt, Cas’s warm weight covering his back and his arm encircling him to grip him tight and ground him in this moment. It was perfect, it was perfect, and then Castiel moved.

  And it got _better_.

  Each thrust was like sparks going off and it was fucking cliche but it was like he was being pulled apart and put back together by Cas’s steady rhythm and a solid anchor around his torso.

It didn’t last long, this was Castiel’s first time, but it didn’t need to. Cas’s other hand started messily tugging on Dean’s cock, but it was more than enough and suddenly he was coming. Cas followed one, two, three later, burying his face in Dean’s back and groaning his name like it was his salvation. They lay there, sticky with sweat and come, bodies overlapping, until Dean was pushing at Cas and making him roll off. Dean took care of cleaning up, Castiel looking still too blissed-out to do so much as move. He tugged the blanket over them and pulled Cas into his chest.

“Hey, Cas, what did you do today?” Dean carded his hands through dark locks.

“Hmm… I ate breakfast, I had a session with Tessa. I had dinner, I stared at the stars,” Cas mumbled back.

“That’s it? Nothing else of note?” Dean teased.

“There was one other thing, I did fuck Dean Winchester. That was important.”

“And in the morning? If you forget?” he placed a kiss in the hollow of Cas’s throat.

“I guess you will have to remind me what it was like.”


	4. Fixed Up

At the two month mark there was another check up.

  “You’re doing great, everything is healing really well,” the doctor had said.

  Tessa had not been quite so complementary.

“You need to seriously start trying to repair your memory.”

“He remembered his brother,” Dean protested, “That’s something.”

“One incidence while sick does not mean he is making a conscious effort to remember his past. Don’t you want to get better?” Tessa leveled her gaze at Castiel.

“What does it mean to be better?” Cas was looking at his hands in his lap. He was getting so much better at eye contact, with Dean at least. Sometimes it was almost too much and Dean had to kiss him just to make him stop looking quite so much.

“It means—” Tessa began.

“What does it mean to be healthy? To be able to do what you want? I walk, I talk, my hands do not cooperate as much as they should but remembering will not help that. Am I missing something other humans strive for? No. If my observations of humanity are correct then I already have everything I could possibly want. I have friends who are my family. I have a past time I could never get bored of. I go on adventures, I laugh, I eat, I enjoy life. I am happy. What else do humans want, to be loved? I am. I do. If I woke up tomorrow with all my memories intact, I cannot imagine that my life could get any better that it already is.” Castiel finished with his eyes locked on Tessa’s. Dean felt like he was floating, soaring. He knew he must be grinning like an idiot.

Because Cas loved him.

Cas. Loved. Him.

“But you don’t know, you don’t know because you don’t remember.” Tessa protested.

“I believe we’re done here.” Castiel stood and Dean was quick to follow.

They were in the car before Cas spoke again.

“We should celebrate.”

“Celebrate what?” Dean glanced over.

“Dean, watch the road. Idiot.” Castiel rolled his eyes. “Celebrate the good stuff. Everything that has happened in the last two months.”

“How do you want to celebrate?”

“I want to eat chocolate cake and watch the sunrise from the balcony.”

Dean laughed, “That’s oddly specific. But sure, whatever you want.”

 

They were laughing, but that was probably from sleep deprivation and the relief of seeing the first few pink hints of dawn.

“No, be serious.” Dean tried to stamp down his laughter and handed the fork to Cas, “This is a relationship defining moment.” They had bought a single piece of chocolate cake that afternoon and Cas had been staring hungrily at it all evening.

Cas pushed a forkful of chocolate cake into his mouth and bunched his eyebrows to consider the taste. Dean waited with baited breath.

Cas cleared his throat and glanced at Dean, “Is this when I am required to say I prefer pie so you will continue to have intercourse with me?”

“Shut up, no, honest opinion.”

“In that case,” Cas took a fast bite of cake. “It’s definitely,” another bite, “totally, completely,” two fast following each other, “unbelievably,” Dean watched in fascination and horror as Cas picked up the last bit and unceremoniously stuffed it in his mouth, “delicious,” Cas said around the cake in his mouth.

“You’re a dick.” Dean tackled him, knocking the thankfully plastic plate out of his hands and pinning his wrists above his head.

  “Hm.” Cas swallowed and grinned. “Studies show you reflect the personalities of the five people closest to you. So this is three fifths your problem.”

  Dean resigned himself to kiss the frosting off Cas’s lips and then somehow ended up kissing the rest of him.

 

‖

 

The Bad Days were the worst.

Dean felt so fucking useless as Cas just curled up on himself and wouldn’t let anything in. He was scared when Cas couldn’t stand up and he wanted to call the hospital but Cas said he was just sad.

Like that was supposed to make it better or something.

Cas talked in a muffled whisper about how when he’s not feeling so sad the world could crush him and he would be happy for the release, he feels so empty.

Like nothing could fill him up.

Dean hated it when Cas cried until it was nothing but gasps and shaking but it was so much better than when Cas was listless. His eyes drained of life and he would stare for hours at nothing and it was killing Dean to watch it.

 

On Bad Days, Dean held Cas. He stroked his hair and his back and mumbled over and over and over again how everything was going to be okay, everything was going to be okay.

 

Castiel tried to believe it.

 

Everything was going to be okay.

 

‖

 

  Cas came home from an appointment with Tessa with a stormy expression.

  He had been doing that a lot and Dean was starting to get nervous. He wouldn’t be surprised if Tessa suggested electroshock therapy or some other ridiculous outdated idea to get Cas’s memories back.

  “What does the bitch want this time?” he turned to face Cas who was glaring at something he held in his palm. Cas held up the shiny key.

  “She wants me to go to my old apartment.”

 

  They went that afternoon after Cas had sat with a cup of tea and calmed down a bit. Dean laughed at the look of disappointment when the key worked in the lock and the door swung open to Jimmy’s apartment. Not that the apartment was really like an apartment, more like a fancy brick townhouse. They walked inside with trepidation, but besides a bit of dust the place looked… normal.

  Very normal.

  Too normal.

  Cas passed the sheet of paper Tessa had given him along with the key. They were instructions of what they should do. Dean balked at the first item.  
          “Do I really have to call you Jimmy while we’re here?” Dean glanced at Cas as the other man drifted a hand slowly over a light grey couch. It looked… functional.

  “Yes Dean.” Cas nodded gravely, “We will follow all the instructions. Read them to me.”

  “Are you feeling any different? Does anything feel familiar?” Dean read off.

  Cas spun in a slow circle, a weary little smirk on his face, “No.”

  “Sit in the living room, pick whatever place you first think of.”

  Castiel sat in a white chair and tried to angle his body so he could curl his legs to his chest. It was his normal sitting and reading position. Cas pulled a face when the distance between the two arms was too small for him to fit comfortably but not small enough that he could throw his legs over. “Perhaps I read somewhere else.”

  “Maybe. Okay, next step, go to the kitchen.” They moved rooms, “Close your eyes, pretend like it is the morning and you just woke up. You walk into the kitchen to get ready for your busy day. Now, without thinking, open the cabinet you would normally start with.” Dean noticed that the kitchen was completely different from the own at their apartment, so Cas didn’t really have an option for just copying what cabinet they kept his tea in.

  Castiel paused for a second and then pulled open a larger cabinet at eye-level. It held two large pots and a colander.

  “Maybe he didn’t eat breakfast?” Dean offered weakly.

  “Say my name, Dean, it will not work if you avoid it.” Cas pulled open a few other things at random.

  “Jimmy,” it felt gross in his mouth, “maybe you didn’t eat breakfast?”

  “Maybe.” Cas sounded so tired, “What is next?”

  They went through all the tasks methodically, Dean tired not to think about what was happening. In Jimmy’s room the sheet was tidily tucked in with a thin blanket covering it. Cas slept with at least three blankets and a comforter and always left them at a bunch at the foot of the bed. The closets were full of suit and few pairs of sweats but that was it. Cas looked pained when he saw the lack of sweaters. There were no pictures, no personal touches. There was a TV but no DVD’s to show what he liked. The tension in his face only got worse when Dean made the mistake of pointing out the lack of books. By the time they got to the end of the list Cas was shaking slightly and Dean felt like he was going to throw up.

  “Anything?” Dean rubbed a hand up and down Cas’s back, “Anything at all?”

  Castiel reached into the pocket of his trenchcoat and pulled out the wallet. He flipped open to the divers license. Cas rubbed his thumb over the picture staring back at him.

  “I do not think I believe it.” he said softly.

  “Believe what?”

  “That I am James Novak. It is not me, it could not be.”

  “Cas…”

  “I know, it is ridiculous, like something out of a movie. Maybe I was a secret trial brain transplant, maybe my life is an elaborate television show. How is this person me? If I somehow it is me and somehow I remember, how will I reconcile the two? He has uncomfortable furniture, he makes his bed, he does not own agreeable clothing.” Cas sounded exasperated.

  “Maybe this was a temporary living arrangement.” Dean attempted.

  “Maybe, maybe, always that word. It is not me, I can prove it.” Castiel looked determined.

Dean was helpless to do much more than let Cas pull him back to the kitchen.

Cas pulled out a large can of coffee bean and shook it in Dean’s direction, “I hate coffee. It is vile. Even if I do not remember my life, my tastes would remain the same.”

  Dean didn’t know what to say.

  “Your name is an integral part of your being. When you mishear something your subconscious often turns it into your name. When you are distracted or in a loud place someone could easily get your attention simply by saying your name. James C. Novak is nothing it me, a stranger, a random string of letters. It is not me.” Cas’s cheeks were colouring in his anger.

  Dean pulled him into a hug, “You’re you, Cas. You will always be you, no matter what.”

  “It is not me.” Cas gripped him tighter, “It cannot be me.”

  Dean held him until he stopped shaking.

 

‖

 

  They took walks, sometimes, in the evening.

  It helped Cas sleep a bit better.

  On an empty Sunday, Castiel spotted an advertisement for an architecture tour that happened to be conducted in a horse drawn carriage. On a busy Monday, Castiel dragged Dean down the street because they were _going on this tour, so help me Dean_.

  The other people on the tour were a cute early 20’s couple who looked a bit startled to see them. They must have been a strange sight, a grumpy dude with grease still on his face and another guy in a garish zigzag sweater who was practically bouncing he was so excited.

  Either way, the other couple didn’t seem to mind so much when Cas kept interrupting the tour guide to ask questions about what he had really come here to see.

Two hours later and $40 lighter, Dean had learned a lot more about horses than architecture.

But Cas was happy, and these days that was all that really mattered.

 

‖

 

  They shuffled an appointment with Tessa to a Thursday so they could go on a short road trip. Dean had waxed poetic about the summers he and Sam spent wandering around the US in the Impala and Cas had decided he wanted to go on one.

  They did a four day trip, Friday to Monday.

  Castiel got to control the radio and even got to pop in his own tapes they had bought from a weird little underground shop a couple days beforehand. He didn’t understand the significance of Dean letting him pick the music, but Dean did.

They stopped in random towns and wandered around until Cas got tired or hungry.

They stopped at a cute cafe and ate outside and Cas loved it. Dean hated it because the waitress kept flirting with Cas. He didn’t really notice, which made it even funnier when she handed him the check with her number written on the bottom and Castiel just smiled at her and said, “Oh my boyfriend will pay for me.”

They stayed in an eclectic bed and breakfast that night. The long haired lady running it told them the house was haunted so they shouldn’t leave their room after midnight. She went as far to hand them a container of salt and told them to run a ring around their bed. Dean and Cas stayed up late telling ghost stories and listening for noises in the darkness. At three am they pulled the blankets over their heads and finally go to sleep, Dean whispering that ghosts weren’t real.

They spent the second day driving and pulling over at every single roadside attraction Cas spotted. They were a bit disappointed that the World's Largest Catsup Bottle is actually a water tower, the World's Largest Ball of Twine was exactly what you would expect, but Carhenge was definitely better than either of them were expecting.

  That night Dean dished out for a swanky hotel. They got a free bottle of champagne and everything is decadent and ridiculous. It was… memorable. They went to bed late, slept late, and then stayed in bed until a maid finally came and kicked them out. It was quiet that afternoon while they drove. The weather was dark and on the edge of rain and it dampened their exuberance.

  The final night, Dean gave the road trip experience he remembered. They stopped at a diner and ate greasy burgers and shared a milkshake and laughed at all the dirty looks the truckers were giving them. They went to a bar and Dean taught Cas how to play pool, a constant press of can’t-take-their-hands-off-each-other. Dean got a crappy motel rooms and it smelled like everything out of his memories. It was sketchy and dirty and felt a bit like home.

Castiel liked the motel the most.

He liked laying pressed against Dean on the tiny bed and pushing quarters into the magic fingers and laughing because he had never experienced anything like it before.

  When they returned on Monday they were happy to get home, but happy they went.

 

‖

 

  “I should get a job.” Castiel put the mail down in front of Dean.

  “Uh, why the sudden interest now?” Dean paused what he was doing.

  “I cannot freeload off you forever, I should start earning money too.” Cas looked resolute.

  “Is this because you want to, or Tessa said you should?” Dean was getting steadily more annoyed by Tessa.

  Cas’s face dropped for a second. “I think this is the right course of action.”

  Dean sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Okay, fine, we’ll look into it.”

 

  It was Sam who actually found the job.

  It was at a tiny bookstore that Dean had never really noticed. It was about a ten minute walk from the apartment, so that was really convenient. Dean knew Cas wanted the job the second they stepped into the place. All of the emotion was stripped from the other man’s face, leaving it blank and empty.

  “Do you need to sit down for a second?” Dean teased, putting an arm around Castiel’s shoulders.

  “Dean… it is amazing.” Cas spun in a slow circle to take in the room. It really was amazing, floor to ceiling bookcases filled to the brim. The air smelled so much like old books that Dean thought he could practically taste paper.

  The shopkeeper walked towards them, glasses swinging on a beaded rope. “Is one of you the one looking for a job?”

  Dean nodded towards Cas who wasn’t paying attention, already lost in the stacks, “He is. He might need a bit to come back to reality.”

  “It’s fine,” she grinned. “It mean’s he will fit in well here.”

  “How did you get so many old books?”

  “My father and my uncle were collectors, after they died no one in the family had any interest in them. I opened up the shop in hopes they would eventually find good homes. There are boxes and boxes more sitting in storage. They are selling a bit better than I imagined, so I really do need the help.”

  “Did my brother explain the issue?” Dean glanced at her.

  “Yes, quite tragic.” They both watched Cas wandering in rapture, fingers sliding over the spines of the books.

  “He’s really passionate, loves books. He’s good with people, but too much math is a bit rough on him. His short term memory glitches sometimes, so you might have to explain things to him a couple times. That is, if you hire him,” Dean added quickly.

  “Oh, hon, don’t fret. He was hired the second he walked in the door and got that look on his face. Don’t worry about anything, we don’t even have a sorting system.”

  Two and a half months after he lost his memory, Castiel got a job and a blue vest with the name of the bookstore on it.

 

‖

 

  “Hey, this guy I work with, Chuck, is getting married. They’re throwing an engagement party and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me?” Dean fitted his hands around Cas’s hips and kissed his neck.

  “Hmm, free food?” Castiel twisted his head a bit to look at him.

  “I trained you well.” Dean smirked into Cas’s shoulder. “So you’re in?”

  “Do I have to wear fancy clothes?” Castiel grimaced.

  “Unfortunately.”

  “Fine,” Cas sighed.

 

  Castiel came home the Saturday afternoon of the party all dressed up after shopping with Sam that morning.

  “Bummer that we have to be there in fifteen minutes,” Dean said with a fake smile. In the jacket and tie and white shirt Cas was looking a lot like Jimmy. It was unnerving. He hadn’t realized how separated they had become in his mind. But then he shrugged on his usual trench coat and something snapped in Dean’s head and he was back to being Castiel.

  “You are looking quite good yourself.” Cas’s eyes raked up and down his body. Dean crossed his arms over his torso.

  “Don’t objectify me.”

  “Why isn’t Sam going? He mentioned he knew Charles,” Cas asked as they made their way to the Impala.

  “Sam isn’t touching this with a ten foot pole. Becky, the girl Chuck is marrying, used to have an obsession with Sam. Creepy, creepy obsession. She got him black-out drunk one night and tried to convince him that they had gotten married. I have no idea what Chuck sees in her, but it’s a free country, you can marry whoever you want.” Dean slid into the drivers seat.

  “Except us,” Cas said softly.

  “Wait, what?” Dean froze.

  “If we wanted to get married, it’s illegal.” Cas frowned at him, confused at his reaction.

  “Oh, right.” Dean’s heart started to beat regularly again. Marriage was… scary. Dean was just wrapping his head around the idea of having a boyfriend. He didn’t know if he wanted to marry someone. It seemed so… heavy. You were trapped, bound to one person for an indefinite time. You only slept with one person for potentially the rest of your life.

  Not that he had any intention to either break up with Cas or cheat on him.

  Jesus, of course not. But marriage. They had known each other for two and a half months. It was something he didn’t really want to think about right now.

  They arrived a lot faster than Dean had expected, but there were still a lot of cars there already. He parked far away, so there would be less of a chance of someone hurting his baby. When they got inside, the party was in full chaos. Becky, apparently, knew a lot of people. Dean knew Chuck didn’t. Chuck was a struggling writer who did a lot of paperwork and money stuff at the shop, he didn’t get out much.

  “What are you thinking?” Dean turned to Castiel who was observing the bustle of people with wide eyes.

  “I think you are socially required to mingle.” Cas squared his shoulders. “I will be fine.”

  “You’re awesome.” Dean let go of Cas’s hand and drifted into the crowd to try and find Chuck.

 

  Dean tried to mingle.

  He really did. It was just difficult while Cas was being so distracting. Dean was just having too much fun watching Cas interact with everyone. When Becky had dragged him to help her get more food he had heard Castiel talking to an older lady about gardening techniques. He looked very serious and interested and it was adorable. When Dean accidentally bumped some guy’s arm it was because Cas was on the other side talking to him about his thesis on subatomic particle interactions. Dean had seen how Cas’s face had lit up and how his gestures widened and suddenly his feet forgot how to walk properly. When Dean had ducked into a random room to avoid talking to his ex, Lisa, he came upon the cutest sight. Cas was sitting on the floor surrounded by kids of different ages and sheets of paper and buckets of markers. Castiel hadn’t noticed him entering and Dean took the opportunity to just watch him talk to a little boy about the rocket ship he was drawing.

  “It’s going into space!” The kid announced, pointing at a black scribble in the corner.

  “Is that so? What is it going to find in space?” Cas asked, giving the kid as much attention as he did everything in life. Dean’s felt a little gooey, like he was about to swoon like a lady.

  “You want to draw something?” A blonde girl held out a blue marker out to him. Cas looked up and grinned.

  “Yes, Dean, draw something.” Castiel drawled. It had been a point of contention between them, Dean had pitiful art skills but Cas insisted it just needed practice.

  “Alright, alright.” Dean winced as he sat down on the hardwood floor and took the marker from the girl. The kids watched over as he draw. They were silent and he felt a little weird about all the eyes on him, but Cas was watching him just as closely.

  Dean finished with a flourish and pushed the piece of paper at the little girl.

  “What is it?” she turned her head to try and puzzle it out in a different direction.

  “It’s an angel,” a different kid said. “It had wings and a halo. Angels are really good people who die and go to heaven.”

  “Some myths say that angels are warriors of God,” an older girl added.

  “But not this angel.” Dean corrected, glancing up at Cas.

  “No, not this angel.” Cas caressed the curve of it’s wings with a finger, “This is the angel of Thursdays.” Castiel looked a bit choked up.

  “Wanna go meet Chuck?” Dean stood and held out a hand to Cas. A couple kids made disappointed noises.

  “Yes.” Cas accepted the proffered hand and kept it as they exited the room.

 

  Chuck was easy enough to find, he was hiding in his study with a bottle of whiskey.

  “Wedding things getting to you?” Dean nodded at the bottle.

  Chuck groaned, “I would rather have a zombie apocalypse then hear another thing about colour schemes. Do you know many shades of white there are? Too many. Way, way too many. And they all look exactly the same.”

  “Getting cold feet?” Dean asked.

  “No,” Chuck pinched the bridge of his nose, “It’s going to be fine, I know it is. I just want to skip the planning and flowers and bridesmaid dresses and jump right to the happily ever after. I love Becky, I really do.”

  “Speaking of significant others, this is Cas.”

  “Ah, the famous Castiel. How are you?” Chuck shook his hand.

  “Quite good, you have a lovely house. Becky’s mother wants you to redo the landscaping.” Cas supplied.

  “Great, another way I fail to be the perfect son-in-law. I am so busy writing these days, I hardly know what the outside of this room, much less this house, looks like.”

  Castiel’s attention spiked. “You’re a writer?” His voice was filled with reverence.

  “Yes, Dean didn’t tell you? I based the main characters off—”

  Dean clapped a hand around Chuck’s mouth, “Why don’t we go meet his publisher, Cas? I think I saw her around. You could learn what it takes to get something printed.”

  “Okay, nice to meet you Charles.” Castiel waved as Dean quickly steered him out of the room and away from Chuck’s awful book series.

  Cas and the publisher hit it off right away. Dean doesn’t really listen very much, more entranced by the animated look on Cas’s face. So different from when they had just met. Cas made eye contact, had conversations, _smiled_. He was so different from James Novak. They talked for twenty minutes before the publisher had to attend something else.

  “Well, it was refreshing to meet someone so interested in printed work in this digital age. I’m so sorry, but I seem to have forgotten your name. What was it again?”

  “Castiel Winchester.” Cas answered with an easy smile and the two shook hands.

  Dean’s heart decided to stop beating.

Which was fine because his lungs had also given up on him.

  Castiel Winchester.

  _Fuck_ , that sounded good.

 

  There were a few little speeches and cake which Cas ate with gusto as Dean threw him mock-glares. Chuck grabbed him after Castiel had drifted off a bit to talk to someone.

  “What’s with the trenchcoat?” Chuck asked.

  “I have no idea,” Dean answered honestly. “He found it somewhere in the apartment and it’s been his ever since.” He paused, “But it fits. I mean, that’s Cas. He just… finds things. Things you didn’t even know you had. He doesn’t do it quite like everyone else but he still manages to carve a piece of you out to be his.”

  Chuck grinned at him, “You really like him, don’t you.”

  “Yeah, I—” _love him_ , “Yeah… I do.”

  “Castiel… that’s an angel name, isn’t it? Do you think I could—”

  “Don’t you dare put him in your books.”

 

Dean hesitated after he turned off the car outside their apartment.

  Their apartment.

  “Is something wrong?” Castiel paused with his hand on the handle of the door.

  “Cas… you know I love you, right?” Dean talked all in a rush, “Because, at Tessa’s you said… and I know I haven’t really said it, but I’m bad at emotions, ask anyone. And… and I thought you would know, you’d just get it. But then I never said it and I didn’t… I just… I needed to make sure you knew.”

  “Dean.” Cas took his face in both of his hands. “I know.”

  Dean snorted. “Star Wars, nice.”

  “I love you too.” Castiel smiled at him. “But you know that.”

  His throat felt thick with emotions. “Yeah, I know.”

 

  That night Cas fucked him slow and sweet as they gasped into each other's mouths and stared into each other’s eyes.

  In the morning when Dean went to grab the orange juice he noticed the drawing of a tiny blue angel stuck to the fridge with a bumblebee magnet. It was standing next to a little figure with freckles and plaid. There was a little heart between their heads.

 

‖

 

  Cas came home from an appointment with Tessa with another list and stared at it sitting on the kitchen table for two hours before he went upstairs with a migraine.

  Dean went to see Tessa.

  “Come on, this isn’t what he needs.” Dean followed her down the hallway.

  Tessa whirled around on her heel, “And you know what he needs? You, a mechanic, not a licensed professional who actually went to college?” Dean flinched.

  Tessa took a breath. “Do you know what object permanence is?”

  “No.”

  “It’s a psychological concept related to infants. It’s the point where children learn that even if they don’t see something it doesn’t mean that it ceases exist. A lack of object permanence is the reason that babies find peekaboo an interesting game.”

  “I don’t understand where you’re going with this.”

  “Just because you don’t see James Novak doesn’t mean he’s gone. You created a whole new life, a whole new person. For christ's sake Dean Winchester, you gave him a different name. He’s never going to remember. Never. His brain decided his life was too tough to remember, and you gave him the perfect out. He doesn’t have to remember who Jimmy is because he’s not Jimmy anymore. He’s _Castiel_. And if you keep going like this he will never be anything more than Castiel.”

  “What’s wrong with that? He’s happy.”

  “You and I both know that’s a lie. Who are you trying to protect, Dean? Castiel or yourself?”

  “What? Cas, it’s always been about Cas. I just want him to be okay, to be happy.”

  “Are you sure? Because it seems to me that if he remembers he’s going to want nothing to do with you. You two didn’t get along that well, you couldn’t stand four dates, much less a relationship. I bet you couldn’t even be friends with Jimmy. What do you think is more powerful? Three months, or thirty years. He’s not your Castiel, his name is James Novak and he had a life long before you came and screwed it up.”

  “I… I never meant— That’s not fair.”

  “Life isn’t fair Dean, sorry if no one ever told you that.” Tessa walked away from him, but she paused before entering her office. “You were right.”

  “About what?”

  “It is your fault. You were not the one behind the wheel, but you are the one who killed James Novak.”

 

  “Dean? What is wrong?” Castiel stood from the couch, dropping his book.

  “Cas…” Dean choked. Cas stepped towards him and wrapped his arms around him. Dean buried his face in his neck, inhaling the familiar smell of Cas.

  “I love you, I love you so much Cas, so fucking much.”

  “Shh, I know. I love you too.”

  “You’re happy, right?”

  “Of course Dean, I’m with you.” Castiel smiled at him, expression open and innocent.

  Dean didn’t say anything else, just held him tighter.

 

 

‖

 

  Three months in, Dean finally decided it was time for Cas to go to the Roadhouse. And more importantly, meet everyone. Sam went with them, and Kevin begged for long enough that Dean eventually gave in but warned that his underage ass was definitely not getting any alcohol. Which Kevin knew blatantly, but it kept Ms. Tran unsuspicious.

  Jo tackled Dean and Sam when they stepped in the door until she realized Castiel was there and switched her affections.

  “You must be Cas! Dean, why didn’t you tell me he was hot?” Jo grinned while Cas looked a bit uncomfortable.

  “Girl, give him room to breathe,” Ellen called from behind the bar.

  Jo shot her a glare but let Cas go.

  “You must be Ellen,” Cas nodded to her. “You raised Dean and Sam.”

  Dean could have sworn Ellen blushed a little, “Yes, my late husband and I did until Dean got this foolish idea in his head that he needed to support himself and Sam.” Ellen sneaked a beer across the expanse of the bar to a grinning Kevin.

  “I’m watching you, Ellen.” Dean pointed at her, “No getting the high schooler drunk.”

  “Please, I’m more mature than you are.” Kevin took a swig.

  “Then you should know better. If your mother found out she would kill you and then bring you back to life to take the AP tests.” Sam sprawled long-limbed in a seat.

  “Is Dr. Badass in?” Dean shoved Jo’s shoulder lightly.

  “Where else does he go,” Jo snorted, “If you have told me you guys were coming by, I could have assembled the whole gang.”

  “The night’s still young.” Sam shrugged.

  “I think it’s time for shots then.” Jo’s eyes glinted as she pulled out her cell phone. Ellen rolled her eyes but poured drinks.

  Jo had worked her magic and they were all a bit tipsy by the time Garth and Ash and Pamela had shown up.

  They all teased and cat-called Sam as he called Jess to invite her. She showed up with wet hair and grinned when Sam blushed as he introduced her. They all moved into one of the back rooms when Ellen said they were disrupting the _paying customers_.

 

“Lets play never have I ever.” Jo sat cross legged on the floor.

“Way to be sensitive Jo.” Ash nodded towards Cas.

“I am being sensitive. He’s never had a high school sleepover, we should recreate one.”

“No, let’s do it. I can learn all the stuff Dean does not want to talk about,” Castiel teased.

“Ugh, I always lose this game. Or win. Whichever it is,” Dean complained.

“Oh honey,” Pamela gave him a sharp grin. “You’ve never played with me.”

 

Never have I ever was a lot more fun when everyone was teenagers and nervous to say they had made out with someone. They jumped quickly from easy ones to the dirty ones. It stopped being so much about finding out dirt on your friends, and more about forcing someone to lose. It evolved to trying to outsmart the other people playing, trying to take out at many people as possible or targeting one specific person. They were cutthroat.

 

“Never have I even _given_ a blow job.” Garth said.

“Clever.” Jo drolled. All the girls put up fingers, as well as Dean and Cas and—

Dean laughed, “Wow Sam, got something you want to tell us?”

“College was weird, shut up.” Sam glared at him.

 

“Hum,” Castiel paused to consider. Dean was a bit nervous, Cas had gone first so his previous turn had been innocent. He didn’t really know where he would go with this.

Cas’s eyes sparked, “Never have I ever kissed a girl.”

The whole group groaned, all the boys put up fingers and Jo and Pam highfived as they put up theirs.

“That should be remedied.” Pamela advanced towards Cas, licking her lips.

“Aren’t you going to defend your beau?” Jess teased.

Dean shrugged, “It’s Pam. It’s like a right of passage. I’m surprised she didn’t just lay one on him when he walked in.”

Castiel still blushed when Pamela laid a short chaste kiss on his lips and he pulled a face when she backed up.

Dean thought it was adorable.

 

They played Truth or Dare and it was ridiculous and sloppy.

Kevin and Jo made out.

Ash had to lick a wall.

Dean and Cas switched clothes.

Pamela told a very graphic story of her first experience with exhibitionism.

Sam had passed out so they drew with sharpie all over him.

Eventually they were exhausted and drunk and Kevin drove them to their apartment. Sam crashed in the guest room while Kevin took the couch. In the morning they made pancakes and bacon and eggs and ate it all like men while Kevin laughed at their hangovers until Cas pointed out the hickey on his neck that his mother was _definitely_ going to notice too.

Dean sipped his coffee and quietly let them bicker over breakfast.

This was his life.

His family, his friends, the guy he loved.

Cas caught his eye and smiled at him, understanding as always.

He was so fucking happy.

He was in love and so fucking happy.

 

 

 

‖

 

  He never looked forward to the doctors appointments.

  Castiel hated the cold whiteness of hospitals. He hated being poked and prodded by a stranger while they did not look at his face and always told him he was fine.

  Of course he was fine.

  It was the inside-stuff not the outside-stuff that was the problem.

  Dean was sitting in his usual seat in the hallway. There was a window between them and Castiel liked to comfortable feeling of Dean watching him. It made him feel safe. Castiel kicked his feet a bit, waiting for the doctor to get back with the results of his blood test. He looked up when someone entered the room. She was not the doctor, nor one of the nurses. She was not wearing scrubs.

  “I am sorry, perhaps you have the wrong room?” Castiel tried to help.

  The woman’s eyes were shining with tears as she brushed back her blonde hair, “It’s true. You really don’t remember anything?”

  “I am sorry,” Castiel repeated, frowning, “Did I know you?”

 

  Dean jumped when Tessa sat down next to him, “What are you doing here?”

  “So defensive, I haven’t even done anything. Yet.” Tessa gave him a sly smirk.

  “What are you talking about?” Dean demanded.

  “I finally tracked down Jimmy’s family.” Tessa was practically glowing.

  Dean frowned. “I thought you said his whole family was dead? Did you find some like third cousin?”

  “Even better.” Tessa pointed to a blonde woman who was entering the room Cas was in, “I found his wife.”

  Dean’s heart stopped.

 

  Castiel barely breathed, “My wife?” Did that mean that James had been cheating on her with Dean? Was that why he was so secretive?

  “You really don’t remember me? We have been married for nine years.” Amelia was openly crying now. Castiel felt his head pounding, a migraine bearing down on him. He felt like he was hyperventilating.

  “I do not remember. Why do I not remember?” Cas clutched the counter behind him.

  “I brought someone else…” Amelia hesitated, wiping a hand over her eyes.

  “I have more family?” Castiel’s head was already spinning.

  Amelia opened the door and let someone in. Castiel looked up at the new person and froze.

  It was like a dam breaking in his head, everything was rushing and roaring in. It almost swept him off his feet, the deluge of new information in his head but he was anchored, held down in place, by the girl in front of him.

  “This is our daughter—” Amelia began, hesitant.

  His daughter, his little angel. He remembered, he remembered.

How could he have ever forgotten?

  “Claire.” The word was automatic on his lips.

  “Daddy?” Claire looked on the edge of tears. She rushed towards him.

  He dropped to his knees and bundled her up in his arms, stroking her back.

  “Shh, shh Claire. It’s okay, I’m here, I’m here.”

  “Don’t leave me again,” she whimpered.

  “I won’t, I won’t. I promise.”

 

  Dean tried to stand up but Tessa was sinking her nails into his arm and wrenching him back.

  “You will not mess this up,” she hissed. “I have always wanted the best for James, and this is it. He has a family, a wife and a child.”

  Dean’s throat was swallowing around nothing as he watched in horror as a blonde girl of about 8 walked into the room.

  “He was happy, he was happy with me…” but his protests died when he saw Cas’s eyes widen. It was like watching a train wreck. You knew what was happening, you knew if was going to be horrible, but you watched any way. Dean watched as the recognition sparked in Cas’s eyes and his mouth dropped open to say his daughter’s name.

  _Claire_.

  Dean could hear it through the open door, he could see it as everything rushed back and—

  James Novak knelt and embraced his daughter eighteen weeks after getting in a car accident. Dean closed his eyes.

  Tessa’s tight grip on his arm felt like the only thing grounding him in reality, “ _Look,_ that’s where he belongs.”

  Dean opened his eyes to see that the woman, _his wife_ , had joined the embrace. They were all clutching each other and sobbing.

  Dean felt like crying himself.

  “Look at them, finally reunited. When I called Amelia she was frantic, when I told her the good news she broke down right then and there on the phone. She kept talking about how she was so worried Claire was going to grow up without a father.”

  Dean couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, the hallway was spinning, Tessa’s voice low in his ear.

  “Does.. does she know about..?” Dean gasped out.

  “Of course not. Do you honestly think I would inflict more pain on that poor family? She doesn’t need to know that her husband was living in sin with another man. Amelia is very religious, the whole family is.”

  Dean needed to talk to Cas, he needed to. He tore his arm away from Tessa, standing up. In a flash she was in front of him, shoving him the other direction.

  “Don’t make this harder on them. What is Jimmy going to think? You were an affair. He used you, he wanted to get fucked and you were willing. But you’ve used him, for three months. He was so vulnerable and you used him. It was Stockholms Syndrome, it was Florence Nightingale. You were his savior and his captor. Do you really think he wants to talk to you?” Tessa pushed him again, towards the exit.

  “What am I supposed to do?” Dean felt tears sliding down his cheeks.

  “Leave. Let him go home with his wife and his daughter and be happy.” Tessa pushed him one last time.

  And he left.

 

  “I need, give me a second.” He extracted himself from Amelia and Claire.

  _His wife._

 _His child_.

  But he wanted Dean.

  He stumbled out, shaky with all his memories in place. But all that was in the hallway was Tessa, sitting calmly in a plastic chair. She was inspecting her nails.

  “Tessa, where’s Dean?”

  “I’m so happy for you, Jimmy. It’s so great that you remembered!” Tessa gave him a perky smile

  He grabbed the collar of her jacket. “Where. Is. Dean.”

  She laughed, “He’s gone. He wasn’t needed anymore.”

  “What are you talking about?” he had to talk to Dean. He had to explain. He had to explain everything.

  “God, you should should have seen the look on his face,” Tessa shook her head wistfully, “He looked so… relieved. Dean Winchester has such a hero complex, one of his many faults. I can’t begin to tell you how many times he came to me, feeling so _guilty_. Always moaning about how is was _his fault_ and now he was _responsible_ for an _invalid_.” Tessa sighed, “Now that you finally remembered, you’re not his problem anymore. Of course he left.”

  He took a rough breath, “But Dean didn’t care if I remembered.”

  “He _said_ he didn’t care. Dean was covering his own back, how would it have looked if he constantly pressured you? If he did that he couldn’t play the role of attentive boyfriend until your memory reinstated itself. It was all an act, he didn’t want to get sued.”

  “You’re lying.” He dropped his hands to his side, brain whirling.

  “If I was lying,” Tessa leaned forward, “wouldn’t he still be here?”

  He didn’t have an answer for that.

“But what are you doing talking to me?” Tessa tilted her head, an odd smile on her face, “You’re family is waiting for you.”

 

  Dean didn’t call Sam.

  He didn’t call Bobby.

  He didn’t do anything.

  He went home.

  He didn’t look at the pictures on the fridge as he passed it to grab a bottle of whiskey.

  He slept alone for the first time in months, the other side of the bed feeling huge and distant and so fucking painful.

  But first he laid there for hours just feeling his heart breaking.

  Piece after piece.

 

  Sam noticed something was wrong after two days. Dean wasn’t returning his calls or texts. Eventually he called Bobby who said he hadn’t been to work. When he showed up at Dean’s apartment he was really glad he had his own key because Dean didn’t answer when he knocked. Dean wasn’t on the main floor and Sam felt more and more nervous as he went up the staircase.

  “Dean…” Sam knelt by the bed. The side table was littered with empty bottles. His brother was delirious on the bed and everything smelled a bit like vomit and booze. Sam’s gut twisted, but it had nothing to do with the conditions. He hadn’t seen Dean crash like this since… in a long time.

  “Sammy.” Dean groaned.

  “Dean, what happened?” Sam was already fearing the worst. He didn’t see Cas anywhere. Dean had talked about brain aneurysms…

  “Cas is gone.” Dean’s voice was muffled by a pillow. Sam put a hand on Dean’s shoulder.

  “What kind of gone? Gone-missing or… gone-dead?”

  “Gone not-Cas. Sammy, he remembered. He’s Jimmy again.” Dean sounded so devastated.

  “That doesn’t change anything, he still loved you—”

  “No, no, Sam he was _married._ He has a wife. And, and a kid. Claire. He remembered when he saw them.” Dean hiccuped.

  “Did you talk to him?” Sam patted Dean’s back.

  “No, ‘course not. I couldn’t, he looked so fuckin’ happy. Jesus Sam, I couldn’t do that to his family.”

  Sam could feel the anger rushing into him, “Even if it meant to end up like this?” His fucking brother and his martyr complex.

  “I had to, I had to. He’s _gone_. Sammy…”

  “Did you talk to him?”

  “No.” Dean’s voice was petulant, like a child, “Didn’t have to. Knew what he would say. I _used_ him, I knew Jimmy and I let this happen. I let him think he loved me even though he never did. Never would. I never fought for Jimmy, I just let him be Cas and took advantage—”

  “Dean you were both consenting adults, Cas never did anything he didn’t want to.”

  “But _Jimmy_ would never want to.” Dean said resolutely.

  “So this is your decision? Jimmy is Jimmy and that’s it?”

  “That’s how it is.” Dean blinked up at him.

“Alright, okay, then you’re going to do this. You’re going to get over him.” Sam put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. It would be better in the long run, if Dean was right. If James Novak had a loving family and still thought about Dean the same way he had before the accident. Dean didn’t deserve to get his heart broken twice.

  “I don’t wanna, I loved him.”

  “But you didn’t love Jimmy Novak. Come on, Cas wouldn’t want this for you.” Sam tugged on his shoulder.

  Dean was silent, then “You’re right, I just… Jesus, I thought it could really be something.”

  “You know what will make you, and me, feel a million times better? A shower.”

  Dean grumbled, but sat up.

  It was a start.

 

  He felt sick.

  He was miserable and achey and exhausted and everything in his apartment reminded him of Cas and it was _awful_. When he went downstairs for the first time in two days he tore the angel picture of the fridge and ripped it in half. He felt justified and angry until a few hours later when he saw the pieces on the floor and a little crumpled halo and heart and it was much too painfully symbolic.

  He let Sam gently pull him out of his apartment and to the Roadhouse.

  They got spectacularly smashed with Jo and Ash and then he swore off drinking until he felt better. He didn’t want to drink to feel good, he wanted to drink to feel even better.

  So no more until that happened.

  It seemed very far away at this rate.

  He moped for a week at Sam’s until his fingers itched and he felt like he was going to jump out of his skin.

  He needed to do something before the wanderlust of his teenage years settled back into his skin and he just _left._ He wanted to. Wanted to pick up and leave everything behind and screw strangers in bars and crash in shitty hotels and eat crap food and just drive until it didn’t hurt anymore. Until the gaping _emptyemptyempty_ didn’t feel quite so raw. But he couldn’t do that to his friends, his family.

  So he worked, a lot.

  He made up for all the missing and weird hours he had worked the past three months when he had Cas.

  It was easier there, Bobby wasn’t one to throw him pitying looks, even if he did give him all the Chevy’s they got in. Sam always looked at him with sad puppy eyes and it was starting to get on Dean’s nerves. Especially when they were living together.

  That changed, after about a week and a half.

  Sam prepped his apartment by taking out all the booze and tearing down all the drawings. It looked empty, when he got back, bare and devoid of life.

  It looked fresh, like a new beginning.

  But it didn’t alleviate the gnawing doubt of _areyousureyouremakingtherightchoice?_

  He spent a lot of time with Sam and Kevin.

  They were funny and supportive and mostly, blissfully, _distracting_.

  It was two weeks later and he was getting better.

  He didn’t sleep as well or think as well, but he was getting better.

  But he never stopped missing Cas.

 

  “Jesus, Sammy, I thought you said eight o’clock, it’s barely four…” The words died in his throat as he opened the door.

  Cas, _Jimmy_ was standing there. He was wearing his normal suit and tie, his hair was cut short again. Dean had liked Cas with longer hair, it got all messed up in the morning and whenever they fucked. He was also wearing the tan trench coat and it was making Dean’s heart ache painfully. But mostly, he looked scared.

  “Hello Dean.”

  “What do you want, Jimmy?” Dean couldn’t muster an ounce of fight, he was too tired. Tired of hurting.

  He flinched, “Do you think I could come in? I want to talk to you. I want to apologize.”

  “Yeah, you could have fucking told me you were fucking married.” Dean glared at him.

  “That’s the thing, I wasn’t. I’m not,” he said, exasperated.

  Dean walked into his apartment.

  But he left the door open.

 

  It hurt to be this close to Dean and not touch him. The last two weeks had been awful, he knew Dean didn’t want him, but he couldn’t leave it like that. The last two weeks had worn him down, put the dark circles back under his eyes that Dean had managed to erase. It had been amazing to see his daughter, to see Claire, but the entire time he felt the voice in the back of his head telling him to go talk to Dean. It didn’t matter if Dean threw him out, if he glared and shouted and said he never wanted to see him ever again, he couldn’t leave it like this. He just couldn’t. It felt like a live wire in his head, always there and always sparking, but always so much more painful whenever he touched it.

  Dean sat down on the couch and folded his arms. There was hostility in every tense muscle and it was killing Cas. He hated it, hated it. He wanted to jump in Dean’s lap and kiss him until he smiled but that wasn’t possible. He paced while he talked.

“Amelia cheated on me, I found her fucking him in our bedroom, on top of the quilt her grandmother gave us on our wedding night. I left, moved here. We agreed to get a divorce but the papers hadn’t technically gone through yet. My lawyer was waiting for me to call her to finish the last part but I lost my memory before that happened. It’s done, now. I signed everything.” he spoke quickly, everything coming out in a rush to be over. He had planned on saying more, talking about Amelia and his rocky marriage from the start, and how they had only been staying together for Claire. He had wanted to take it slow and make sure Dean understood, how different his life was from how it looked on the outside. So much more than anyone could have imagined. But in this moment he was nervous and scared and the detailed would have to come later. Dean’s face hadn’t even twitched and it was making his throat dry.

“I was done with Amelia, but I still sent letters to Claire. I missed her, a lot, but I wouldn’t visit or call. Amelia felt awful, she wanted to get back together with me so she delayed the divorce process a lot. She still loved me some, even though she cheated on me. I might have deserved it, I was distant, caught up in work. And even when I was there I was never deeply involved. I met Amelia when I was twenty and we started dating almost right away. We got married at 22. But she still wanted me to be there, to be Claire’s father. Which is why she acted like that at the hospital.”

“Do you love her?” A muscle in Dean’s jaw jumped.

“No. I thought I did, when I was young. But no, I don’t. I love our daughter. Amelia knew it was bad between us, she knew it was over. She knew this whole time, which is why she never looked for me. Tessa told her that seeing her might help my memory.” Cas remembered the fights they had gotten into in the past two weeks. They would tell Claire to go to her room and turn her music up as loud as she could and they would yell at each other how they never loved each other in the first place, how it was a convenience relationship when they were so young and how everything just snowballed. His tongue felt tangled in his throat, he wanted to tell Dean everything but the words weren’t coming out how they were supposed to. Everything was backwards and sideways and scrambled until it didn’t make sense even to him. Everything was so much simpler when Cas was relying on three months of memories, not thirty years of lying.

“So it didn’t work out between you and your wife and you just come crawling back here?” Dean glared with hated and it struck like a knife.

Cas flinched, “If I remember correctly, _you_ were the one who left _me_.” Tessa had been very clear about that. Painfully, world-shatteringly clear. Somehow Dean’s reactions weren’t matching up with what happened. It was too dangerous to feel hopeful. What if...

Dean closed his eyes and looked down, fingers turning white and digging in where they gripped his leg.

“You had your family, your daughter, your memories, you got your whole life back. I lost you, I didn’t have anyone anymore. Fine, it was a bit of a dick move to leave, but don’t even pretend for a moment that this hurt you more than it hurt me.” Dean stood up and looked away.

“I said I came to apologize, but I don’t think you deserve it anymore.”

“What were you going to say? Sorry for lying to you and then ripping your heart out? Thanks, makes it a lot better.” Dean threw him a sarcastic grimace.

“Stop lying!” Cas yelled. It was easier to be angry, the twinges of guilt and hope would destroy him at the end of this.

“What are you talking about?” Dean looked outraged.

“Tessa told me! She said you were happy when I remembered. That you were relieved because it meant that you didn’t have to deal with me anymore. You just helped me because you felt guilty and I was becoming too much of a burden.” He lost volume as he went on, dropping his arms at the end. He was on the verge of just collapsing right there.

“No, Cas.” Dean’s arms were around him, holding him tight and safe and warm. “you were never a burden. I never felt guilty. You know me, I don’t anything I don’t want to. I left because I thought it would be easier. Everything changed and I didn’t really have a part in it anymore.”

“I love you so much Dean Winchester, that never changed,” he said into Dean’s neck.

 

Dean was relishing the feeling of Jimmy… Cas… whatever in his arms, but he was also feeling a bit sick.

“But you have all your memories back. That changes everything.” he remembered all too vividly how he looked when he embraced his daughter.

“I don’t see why it has to.”

“We didn’t like each other, me an’ Jimmy.” Dean pulled back a bit to search… his eyes.

“When you were a kid, you and Sam dressed up as superheroes and jumped off the roof. You wouldn’t do that today. Why not?”

“Because I’m smarter? I know what would happen.” Dean was confused about this line of questioning.

“But it wasn’t about intelligence, as a kid you didn’t think ‘this is a great safe idea, nothing could go wrong.’ You decided it would be fun and worth the risk of getting hurt. You wouldn’t make the same decision now because you are a different person. You think differently. Just because you have a memory of jumping of the roof doesn’t mean you would still do it.”

“What does that mean for us? How can three months change a lifetime of being someone?”

“I’m still Castiel. I have memories now, but it’s still the past. I can ride a bike now, I can drive a car now, but I still like drink tea and not coffee, I still listen to piano music more than any other kind. I still love you.”

“What if it’s not enough? What if 3 months down the line everything fades. What if you go back to being Jimmy Novak and it just hurts even more?”

“I will never go back to being Jimmy Novak because Jimmy Novak isn’t real.” There was fire in his voice and steel in his eyes.

“What are you talking about?”

“Tessa said that my memory loss was probably psychosomatic, and while god knows I have seen enough things to repress my memory, that isn’t really true. I never felt like James was me, it never felt like my name because it wasn’t.”

“What.” Dean could practically feel his brain boggling.

“It isn’t my name. I was right, it isn’t me. James C. Novak was invented by the US Government when, at 19, I was placed in the Witness Protection Program.”

“What the fuck.” Dean finally didn’t ask a question.

“Sit down,” he pulled them both down onto the couch. Dean was reeling, this was crazy, yet… made a lot of sense. Why Jimmy didn’t talk about himself. Why Cas hated it when people called him James.

  “My mother died from cancer when I was eight. My father died in a car accident when I was fifteen. He was a nice man, kind to us, but distant. He was always working, not a lot of parenting. We got a lot of free rein, the older children even more so. He ran a very successful business. When he died his will stated that the control of the company would be passed on to my brother Gabriel when he turned eighteen, thirteen years ago. My oldest brother, Luke, was not very happy about that.” Dean grabbed Cas’s hand but the man didn’t even pause in his story, “Luke had changed after my mother had died and our father had stopped paying attention to us. He got in trouble at school until he dropped out. He started hanging around bad kids until bad kids became bad adults and Luke was in the thick of it.But he was stupid, he made bad decisions. He owed a lot of people a lot of money and when he didn’t get the company…” Cas took a shuddering breath, “It was a lot of money, money Luke needed to stay alive. He knew he was next in line to inherit it, after Gabriel. Thirteen years ago I witnessed someone trying to kill my brother Gabriel. My older sister, Anna, tried to stop him and ended up getting shot. Bullet to the head. I killed him, the attacker, stabbed him to death with a kitchen knife. They said it was in self defense, and it was, but I mostly wanted to avenge my sister.” Cas closed his eyes. “The FBI could never prove it was Luke behind the attack, but everyone knew it was. They pretended like Gabe died and we both got new identities far away from each other. Gabe runs the company and I get to hide and hope they never find me and get revenge on killing one of theirs or kidnapping me to find Gabriel. I was dumped in a random city all by myself with the name James Novak. I felt… homeless. I met Amelia, she had a large family and a lot of friends and I felt like I finally had a place. I belonged instead of being so goddamn lost all the time. But I was never really James Novak.”

  Dean didn’t really know what to say, so he went basic.

  “So who were you?”

  He smiled and leaned into Dean’s side, “I was 19 when it happened. I was taking a gap year before starting college at Stanford, who knows, I might have met Sam. I was going into Physics. I had a boyfriend, Balthazar, who was funny but not anything special. He hit on me a lot, so I said yes to a date and somehow we ended up together. After everything happened, I changed. A lot. I became a tax accountant, a husband, a father. I became involved in the Church because Amelia was very religious. It was a bit silly, listening to sermons about the evils of homosexuals when I spent a lot of my youth fucking them. Eventually, I got worn down. It was like acting but… all the time. I lost who I was under a different name.”

Dean pulled him into his chest, “What was your name, before? What do you want me to call you now?”

  He gave him a sneaky grin, “Casper Milton. But Anna always called me Cas. But I like Castiel more.”

Dean’s mouth dropped open, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I think that’s why I felt safe with you, why it instantly felt like home. You got me, you figured it out even when I didn’t know it.”

“Cas… I want to, I want to so badly, but what about your family?” Dean tightened his grip around Castiel. He didn’t want to let him go but he was also scared.

“They were doing fine without me. I can still see Claire, I still want her to be part of my life, but Amelia… it was over a long time ago. She finally saw that the past two weeks.”

“It’s going to take me some time, you know. It’s really weird. You hold yourself differently, talk differently. You’re still Cas, but different,” Dean said.

“I’ll wait, as long as you need. I know you Dean Winchester, and I love you. That’s not going to change. That’s permanent.”

“Okay.” Dean leaned into Cas, taking back everything he had missed the past two weeks.

“So we’ll try?” God, Cas looked so hopeful and innocent, so _Cas_ it took his breath away.

“Oh, we’ll do more than try.” Dean tilted his head to kiss Castiel. Cas responded quickly, throwing a leg over to straddle Dean, so reminiscent of their first kiss.

“I love you Cas, just so you know.” Dean touched their foreheads together.

Cas grinned, wide and eager.

“I know.”


	5. Ended Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks you so much for reading, any and all comments are lovely. I'm still getting into writing so all feedback is super appreciated! If you want to come chat with my about writing or destiel or supernatural or life, I'm on tumblr at [awayinafastimpala](http://awayinafastimpala.tumblr.com/).

Epilogue - Three Years Later

 

  Dean stamped down his grin when he watched in the mirror while Cas slipped in the door.

  “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Dean mock-glared at him

  Cas rolled his eyes, “I think it will be fine.” He walked up behind Dean and kissed the back of his neck while his arms went around Dean and straightened his bow tie.

  “The bow ties are dumb.” Dean frowned down at it.

  “Well, you’re stuck with it now.” Castiel moved to the side to inspect his own. It looked a lot better on Cas, the blue colour bringing out his eyes.

  “You look good.” Dean turned to kiss him. Cas did, all dressed up in a black tux and the dress pants were somehow doing amazing things to his ass.

  “You do too. Except you’re missing your boutonniere.”

“Gesundheit,” Dean said automatically.

Cas smacked his arm, “You’re flower-thing. Jo should have dropped it by ten minutes ago.”

“Jeez Cas, how much of this are you keeping track of?”

“A lot of it. Flowers were delivered this morning, catering is already starting at the reception venue, the priest arrived half an hour ago, the band is in place, wedding party is _almost_ ready. Did you give the rings to Claire?” Cas looked a bit stressed.

“Yes, of course, I have like one job. Well, two jobs. Relax, it’s going to be fine.”

Castiel sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck, “Charles was right, weddings are too much work.”

“I thought this was supposed to be the easy part.” Dean kissed Cas softly.

“It is, I just want everything to be perfect.” Cas relaxed into his arms.

“I should get going, there’s a place by the alter with my name on it.” Dean draw back a bit.

“Wait, your flower-thing.” Castiel grabbed it off the table where Dean had tried, and failed, to hide it. Cas carefully pinned it on him and gave him one last kiss. “Meet you up there.”

Dean winked at him before he left, “You better.”

 

Dean stood nervously with his hands knotted in front of him. There were a lot of people in the audience but they were all talking amongst themselves, so it wasn’t too bad. When the music started up they all fell silent. The doors at the back of the Church opened and the first people started walking towards them. Claire looked adorable in a blue dress and holding a cushion with the rings regaly in front of her. Dean glanced at Sam, who looked like he was about to pass out.

Dean clasped Sam on the arm and gave him a reassuring smile, “Chill out.”

The music swelled and all heads turned to the back of the church.

Jess looked radiant in her dress as her father escorted her up the aisle. Sam was swaying a bit and Dean couldn’t help himself from reaching out to steady his little brother. His little brother who was getting married to the perfect girl for him. Dean met Cas’s eye from where the other man stood with the other bridesmaids. It had been hilarious when Cas had told him, but it made sense. Sam had a lot of friends from college and Jess and Cas had become pretty close in the last three years.

Jess reached them and took Sam’s hands in her and beamed up at him.

Dean could see how much they loved each other and it was just about the cutest thing ever. His baby brother all grown up.

The ceremony was long but sweet.

Dean totally caught Bobby tearing up a bit.

The reception afterwards was great, surrounded by friends and family. Sam and Jess’s first dance was disgustingly romantic and Dean evened it out by giving a speech about how one time in high school Sam beat the crap out of someone, but that just proved how loyal he was to the people he cared about. Cas ate a bunch of cake just to spite Dean and he retaliated by stealing Cas’s fork. It didn’t deter him.

Dean danced with Jo and Ellen and Pamela until he found an opening to dance with Jess.

“You guys are going to be like ridiculously happy, you know that right?” Dean spun Jess.

She twirled back to him. “You’ve got a pretty good thing going yourself.”

Dean glanced at Cas who was mid-conversation with Jess’s mother. “Yeah, I know.”

“Excuse me, I believe that is my wife you are dancing with,” Sam cut in.

“Yeah, yeah. Listen, you ever hurt her, I know how to dispose of a body.” Dean stepped away from the couple.

Jess laughed, “Isn’t that supposed to be directed at me?”

“Nah, I like you better.”

Sam pushed him away, “Go, dance with Cas. Bother someone else.”

Dean gagged loudly as Sam dipped Jess and kissed her.

Stupid kids in love.

Dean stole Cas away from Mrs. Moore and they kicked off their shoes to slide around on the dance floor in their socks and laugh into each other’s mouths. By the end of the evening they were exhausted and all the band was playing were slow dances. They were one of the last couples out there, Mr. and Mrs. Winchester long gone on their honeymoon. They swayed together, barely moving, bodies pressed together as one.

It was perfect.

 

  They took a taxi back to their hotel room. Dean had insisted on not bringing the Impala anywhere near this many drunk people. It also meant they could get tipsy off nice champagne and cuddle in the backseat. Dean felt so bubbly inside, with Cas’s hand gripped in his and Cas’s head on his shoulder. It had been a crazy three years, them trying to find out how to be together when everything was so confusing, sueing Tessa for malpractice (which was _awesome_ , the look on her _face_ ), Pam and Ash’s whirlwind of briefly dating, Kavin getting into his dream college and traveling to New York to see him play, Sam and Jess getting married...

“That was a really nice wedding.” Dean nuzzled Cas’s hair.

“Hmm,” Cas sighed, his eyes already closed. “Ours was better.”

“Well that goes without saying.” Dean snorts, “But their vows were cute. Sammy cried.”

“Like you were completely dry-eyed at ours.” Cas nudged his side, sighing sleepily.

Dean remembered their wedding, the one the state didn’t actually accept as legitimate, but that didn’t stop them. He remembered their vows, he remembered the look on Cas’s face when he said the words that made Dean go dewy-eyed.

“When I had nothing, I had you. When I had everything, all I wanted was you. And it still seems so unreal that I’m going to keep you.”

It was three years after they had met, a year after they had gotten married, and they were still together. Happy.

Dean had never imagined for a moment that his life would end up here, but it did. With a gently snoring Cas on his shoulder, hands twined together and twin iron rings glinting in the intermittent glow of streetlights.

The ring on his finger hadn’t felt like he had expected when he put it on a year ago. Like a weight, dragging him down. No, it was a reassuring sort of heavy. It was poetic, it was a symbol, it was a reminder, it was a _metaphor_ , it was a promise of forever.

Dean kissed the top of Cas’s head and held their hands together tighter, feeling the ring pushing into his skin.

 

It was permanence.


End file.
